Days of her life
by xStormborn
Summary: When the miracle, in a form of one Varia Organisation, came, everything changed. OC story, undecided pairings for now. Rating may change.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey there, random strangers. I don't really know what to say, so I'll start with this: I used this OC in a story, but I wasn't happy with it at all. I'm good in writing at any points of view in my mother language, but I simply suck at it when writing in English. And I love this OC so much that I really want to write a somewhat decent story with her. Prologue is boring, but I don't thing I can write something different for that purpose. Whatever, I'm rambling now. Reviews (I don't care if positive or negative ones) are always welcomed. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND VARIA.**

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_Prologue__: 29th of February - a perfect person is born__._

Hello there, stranger. What are you doing in my head? I'm not going to ask 'why me?', because after all, I'm pretty awesome, but still… What the fuck? What do you want? Answers? I'm afraid I don't have them, because everything is just too uninteresting to observe, so I can't help you. So can you please fuck off now?

No answer? Cat got your tongue, random stranger, because you're pretty quiet. All you do is listening to my… thoughts. Maybe I'm finally crazy, who knows, maybe there's nobody in my head. Whatever, since you're here (maybe you're not, I can't tell that), I'll tell you some things about my perfect self. We're going to have a good time, I promise, after all, I love talking (in this case - thinking) about myself.

My real name doesn't really matter, but you can call me Valentina. After all, that's how everybody call me since I moved to Italy for the first time. You see, I'm not really Italian, but I'm pretending to be Italian, because I was pretty much hiding back then. There were a strong mafia family plus some angry drug dealers that didn't like me. They didn't like me so much that they wanted me dead. So here I am, with the fake name, past and shit, still trying to hide even if I'm stronger and richer than them now. You can call it a habit, I guess. And old habits die really, really hard and I talk from experience.

Whatever. I was born in Marseille, France, exactly at 01:47am on 29th of February. I lie a lot, but the birth date is real. I swear. My mom used to say that it's something rare, I call it fate. I don't believe in fate, but that's a completely different question. An awesome person needs awesome birth date. And I'm awesome.

I don't really know what to say about my childhood, but I'll try. My parents were normal, I think they were. No 'Psycho for hire' genes and things like that. My dad was a secretary or something similar and my mom was unemployed. I'm the only child (I don't know about brothers and sisters) and when you're the only one, there are two opinions - your parents spoiling you rotten or wanting you to be the president. I'm the second case. Mom and dad weren't that optimistic - after all, your kid being a freaking president is too much - but they still wanted me to become someone important.

Shit were normal at first. But when they found out that I wasn't fond of studying, things became bad. And when they found out about my stealing habits and my weird liking to weed, things became really, really bad. I mean, no money, locking in the closet, a slap here and there. And the slap soon evolved into kicks and broken bones. They thought I'll be a better person with that kind of treatment, I became even worse. Just to show them that they can't change me, I continued changing and changing until I became a mess.

Random stranger, I think I forgot to tell you how plain I was back then. Dull brown hair, sucky eyebrows, skinny, a little tall, a lot of beauty marks. The only remarkable thing about me were the eyes - very strange blue-green, almost neon, color. But they faded in the background, just like all of my other features. And when I started walking the path of a true criminal, the looks were the first thing I changed.

I started with dying my hair. It was black at first, then a couple shades of blonde, black again, dark brownish-red and finally - the neon, almost glowing red. I still love that color and my hair is still like that. Clothes changed too. Lots of leather and tight clothes, killer heels and wedges. Ring or two on every finger, chains, five or more bracelets. I looked like a true rebel, my parents didn't like it and I loved it for that reason. I still dress like that, my hair is still red and my make-up - still strange, even if I don't have anybody to impress now.

Anyways, let's return to the oh-so-sad childhood story. I continued with my not-so-legal habits, adding some more to the list (gambling, drinking, shit stronger and meaner than weed). I wasn't a rebel anymore, oh no, I was a criminal. My parents completely stopped looking after me, meaning they weren't giving me any money and attention, and that's when gambling became actually useful. But the money weren't enough, so I started selling shit. Illegal medicine, at first, after that - weed and some shrooms.

I was 16 years old back then, but I wasn't too young for enemies. Local dealers weren't too happy with my existence and even my awesomeness didn't help. They wanted me out, but I didn't want that - after all, who wants to be poor. There were a couple of beatings meant to scare me, but I'm a stubborn bastard. I didn't learn and I got my very first scar from the thug life.

I still remember it, stranger, like it was yesterday. The docks, the wind and the hobo on the bench. And I was there, with two mean-looking, all muscle guys. I was pretending I didn't know what did I do, but the bastards knew I was acting. There were threads, some hits in the face, things like that, but I was used to this (after all, my parents were sucky, thinking that this is a good method). When that didn't work, I found myself restrained by one of the idiots. The other was lifting my shirt and I thought 'Fuck, I'm so raped', but then there was a knife and a huge 'K.' carving on my belly, like the name of their boss.

I don't know how I'm still alive after that, because I was so afraid back then, like I was going to die. But that's not really important. And that was the reason for the fake name. And the reason for moving in Italy. The change of countries was somewhat easy, after all, I had a lot of rich kids in my friendlist (being a small drug dealer has its benefits). My parents stopped giving shit about me a year or two ago, they weren't a problem too.

Italy was strange for me. The weather, culture and people - completely foreign. But I learned how to live and how to earn money. The money part was hard at first, but I have a not-so-hidden, one of my very few, skill - I curse and insult everybody all the time, but when the desperate need for money strikes, I can be charming. Like, a lot of charming. Sleeping with the right men wasn't a problem too, it wasn't like I actually slept with somebody I loved before.

When I finally reached the big twenties, I was already part-time dealer for information, part-time Psycho for hire. But I went too far with that too. The money were never enough, that's why I started with the double-agent thing, pretending to be on the side of two mafia families at war. At the same time. And I was selling information to a third one. When they finally found out, I gained more and more scars and even more enemies. Everybody wanted me dead and that's why I returned to France.

A year passed and I was too afraid to do a thing. Everything I did was to perfect my fighting skill. During that one year, I learned that the battle hammer is actually a perfect weapon, if you want your enemies smashed to pieces. And I was getting better and better with it. But that didn't make me richer. In the end, I was broke, desperate and clean of drugs (not liking it at all). But the miracle actually happened.

The day was 24th of November, my lowest point in life and thug life. When the call came, I was so happy that I couldn't breathe, the only bad point being the place of the offer - Italy. A friend of mine told me, that a friend of his friend knew a piece of very valuable information.

The Varia were recruiting new members. And that's how my pathetic life changed.

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**P.S. I don't know how that name stuck in my brain. **


	2. I: Welcome to the Varia

**A/N: Aaand here's the first chapter. I had a massive muse strike today, even if it's kinda uncommon for me. Please, forgive me for the mistakes, but I'm not really good with writing in English. Again, reviews (no matter good or bad) are welcomed. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.  
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_I: __Welcome to the Varia_

The word 'shitty' wasn't enough to describe my first days in Italy. I don't even know how to start complaining, and that's something, because I'm a pro at bitching and making people's lives miserable with my rambling.

First, I was stuck in a stinky van for a day and half - riding a plane is too dangerous for somebody in my situation. On the 5th hour, I ran out of cigarettes. I had the money to buy a pack, but… I don't know if it was laziness or something different, but I didn't buy some. I wasn't traveling alone - there were the driver and some hobo-looking man. Said hobo-looking man was checking me out, getting on my nerves all the time. It was a surprise - messy hair, ruined make-up and a nice "It's not about the money, it's about sending a message" T-shirt. And there are a lot of men who dislike my body type - skinny, tall for a woman (I stand exactly 171cm above the ground when not wearing high heels) and flat like a board.

Anyways, I don't want to think about the looks, directed at my legs. Not at all. And the fucker wasn't attractive, heck, he was really far from being good-looking.

Second, the motel I found was too shitty. The floor was more comfortable than the bed, the shower… I can't even call it a shower. There wasn't anything good enough for stealing and I always find nice, interesting objects in hotel rooms, like soaps, towels or small souvenirs.

Third, after a year away, the language seemed strange and unfamiliar. I had to experience a great difficulty when buying smokes and food, the cashier's look was saying "what kind of a idiot are you?" and the urge to smash his head was too big.

However, three long and painful days passed when the miracle I came for happened. Varia Headquarters. Recruitments. And shit.

I don't know how to begin again. Let's start with my preparations. I'm ashamed to admit it, but due great excitement and happiness, I forgot to consider a tiny detail - I wasn't going for an interview. Unlike any interview for a normal, legal job, the Varia Recruitments were rumored to be a bloody battlefield. And I forgot about that. And I was so fucked up, but it was too late. Let's just say that I was wearing high-heel boots with some uncomfortable clothes. My nails were too long to be actually good for battle and I spent a lot of time on my hair.

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After a hour-long ride to the mansion, I was finally there. The guards were giving me strange looks and I was giving them mean ones, until I saw myself from their point of view and damn, did I look so out of place. I didn't have a fucking idea what to do, but like a true Boss, I started walking in random directions, hoping that I'll find the right place, because simply asking somebody for help is too mainstream.

After another hour of walking and walking in the yard, I finally found the right place to be. In front of the mansion. Right in front of it, when I spend a freaking hour circling around like a total idiot. My feet were already aching and that was never a good sign. When I finally stopped asking myself 'WHY, BRAIN, WHY?!', I noticed that there were around hundred bastards in four or five rows. I decided to join them, because that seemed like a good idea, and, oh joy, it actually was. When I lined up, some of the idiots gave me strange looks and, for the second time today, I gave some pretty mean, death-promising ones. When the nasty realization hit me, I felt brainless again. Because I was the only one without any weapons. Damn.

The random Varia member that was explaining our role in this whole thing finally shut his mouth. I didn't even bother listening to him, because, like every smart person with mafia connections, I had a slight idea about The Famous Six. And he wasn't one of them, so there wasn't a point in making a good impression. I just had to observe the other idiots' actions, even if that wasn't one of my favorite things.

When Random Varia Guy was gone, shit got real. And with 'shit got real', I mean an all-on-everybody massacre. There was blood, flying limbs and heads, things like that. Being killed by a fucker that I don't even know wasn't my lifetime wish, so I did what every reasonable, brave person would do - looking for a hiding spot. After carefully observing the territory, the second nasty realization hit me - the only place, good enough for hiding, was one of the trees near me.

So I started running, even if that wasn't very pleasant, and then came the climbing, which wasn't pleasant too, considering the fact that I was wearing high heels. On my route to true salvation, I noticed a few cameras here and there. So the bastards were watching us - good, let them see my brilliant mind and strategy.

When I finally climbed the goddamn tree, my feet were aching even more, if it was possible. My tries to be unnoticed were successful - the others were killing each other, paying no attention to great me. They didn't even look at the trees. Good. Very good for me. But my joy didn't last long - finally, somebody noticed me. And that somebody happened to be huge, all-muscle guy with a giant, mean-looking mace.

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Gorilla-dude was getting closer and closer, me - scared and even more scared. NO! My precious life! But I'm only 21 years old, damn it, I can't die like that! That was such a bad idea, I'm such a fucking idiot, going for this opportunity like it was my very last ace. Well, actually, it was, but that's a completely different question. Reaper, please, not today, just not today! Spare my life!

The depressing "I'm dead!" tirade went for a couple of minutes. In said couple of minutes, gorilla was already on the tree and me - unintentionally kicking him and scratching his face whenever I could. When I stopped ranting in my head, his neck was already broken and precious me - very, very alive. I just couldn't believe my luck, because was normally absent, but today seemed like a lucky day.

So I finally found my long-lost balls. I mean, taking off the insanely high boots, grabbing dead gorilla's mace and getting off the tree. And, damn, didn't I start smashing idiots like the psycho bitch I actually was at that moment. And damn, in the end I was one of the very few people who were still able to breathe.

RVG (Random Varia Guy) was here again, telling us that we passed the first test. Then he turned back and I heard something like "Unfortunately, the easiest…", but I didn't pay much attention. The excitement was like flowing in my body and again, I was too damn happy to breathe.

I started looking around for my boots, and with that, observing the area (damn, that's a second for a day, looks like observing is one of the main actions in Varia) at the same time. I was the only woman alive, the others - another all-muscle guy, a very yummy-looking dude, something that looked like a weird gorilla-elephant hybrid and a couple of other guys, who weren't really remarkable.

When great me finally found the second boot, I raised it in the air like a trophy, excitement flowing in me again.

"I'M ALIVE, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS, I'M FUCKING ALIVE!" And that's when everything became black and I passed out lamely.


	3. II: First love, first encounters

**A/N: What kid of sorcery is this? Prologue and two chapters in two days? I must be loosing it. Anyways, here's the second chapter. Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA. **_  
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_II: First love, first encounter with the Capt'n_

I must say that I've never been in love, being completely serious. I had a decent amount of boyfriends and even more decent amount of lovers, but I only liked them. Damn, I even didn't like some of them. But this… This is true love. I swear.

I fell in love for the very first time in my life when I opened my eyes. I saw light green walls and white curtains that just screamed "hospital!" and the face of the yummy dude from the Recruitment. Damn, wasn't he hot. The eyes, the lips…  
"Are you okay?" he asked, something like concern in his eyes. My stare felt idiotic, but that wasn't one of my priorities at the moment. So I continued to gape like a fish out of water. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked again.

After a minute or two, filled with awkward silence and staring, I finally opened my mouth and a sound actually came out.

"Not really. My ribs and feet hurt. And I have a headache. And I think there's something on my face. God, please, don't let it be a scratch, because scratches often evolve in scars and damn, aren't they ugly. I hate scars on women, even if I have a few, but they're just ugly and unwomanly and things like that. And yes, I know I'm rambling like an idiot, but I can't help it, I don't really know why the fuck is that…"

Handsome guy just stared and stared and stared at me and I felt stupid for the second time in five minutes. After more painful silence that seemed like a freaking century, he finally spoke.  
"Don't worry, it's because of the painkillers." Damn, even his voice was hot, giving me chills.

"Painkillers?"

"Yeah, painkillers. When you passed out, you looked like you needed some. But now… you seem just fine. And there's nothing wrong with your ribs." The good thing was that he didn't notice me, staring at his face like a silly teenager. He continued talking and I continued staring, paying little attention to the actual words. He was telling me something about Varia squads, bosses, notes and things like that. And when he left, I was sad. I didn't even know his name.

Around ten minutes of depressing thoughts passed and I finally noticed the note on the table next to the bed. I wasn't in the mood for reading, but it had my name on it (the fake one, thanks God, even if I don't believe in God) so I had to check it out. Poor me. It was hard to read at first, because words were blurry, making my head ache even more, but it became easier.

_'Valentina Romano, after successfully passing the test, from this moment you are a part from Squad A. Visit room 308 for more information.'_

Squad A. First Squad, meaning Elite Squad. Damn, am I awesome? WHO'S FUCKING AWESOME?! ME, BITCHEZ, ME! However, room 308 was unknown to me and I didn't have a goddamn idea about its location. And the manor looked kinda huge from the outside. And I was pretty screwed again.

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Dressing up was hard, because my vision was still a little blurry and my head still felt like a very heavy stone, standing on my neck like some kind of miracle. My clothes had some stitches, meaning my black tank top with laced back was ruined for good. But I didn't have much choice, so I had to wear it, even if it was ugly now. The tight jeans were ruined too, but they didn't make me so sad. The rings appeared to be lost. At least the short leather jacket and the boots were alright.

Walking out of the infirmary was painful and almost impossible. During my long trip, I realized that somebody took off my clothes when I was out and the very thought about it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. At least I still had my underwear. At least. But after a couple of minutes of hitting the walls when pathetically trying to walk, I stopped giving a fuck. If the bastards wanted to look - c'mon, look, there's nothing to show anyways.

When I was finally out, I found myself circling around like an idiot again. Looks like I didn't learn my lesson well, because again, there were no questions for directions from my side. Like I said, it's too mainstream. Half an hour passed and the only piece of new knowledge was that the mansion has wings. Infirmary wing, main wing, defense wing and training grounds. The rooms of the Varia members, minus the squad commanders and the Boss, were at wing B, or so I thought.

Room 308, being an office, was in the main wing, because that's where the Big Things were spending their free time. After a long and painful stride around, I finally found it. And I froze right in front of the door.

Don't get me wrong, I was happy with my success about finding its damn location, but… According to most of the rumors, Varia were monsters. Demons with nothing human in them, living for the pure joy of killing and torturing. It's silly, I know, but for my drugged and tired mind, it seemed true. I expected somebody like Slenderman, just waiting for my appearance so he can kill me.

I was just standing there, looking and feeling like a moron, calculating my chance to survive WerewolfVaria in percents. The shout from the inside of the room caught me kind of unprepared, so I jumped a little.

"Fucking come in already, for fuck's sake!"

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and slowly made a step. And there was no Slendy, no demons and no monsters. Just a person with a feminine hair and face and very un-feminine posture and voice. Damn, what's its gender? How do I address it? But the very complicated dilemma was indeed very complicated, so I had to do what every other normal person would.

"WASSUP WASSUP WASSUUPP?!"

A vein popped on the person's forehead, making me snicker. The snickering turned into a full-blown laughing and damn, wasn't it funny?! I couldn't even breathe.

"What the fuck? And I was scared for a second, expecting Slendy or some kind of a Stephen King-type monster. And what do I find? Oh fuck…" I was still laughing, Gender Unknown (doesn't it have a very nice ring to it? And it's really accurate, you know) was getting angrier and angrier. He/she stood up and started screaming like a madman/madwoman.

"DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING SLENDERMAN TO YOU, FUCKING BITCH?! SHUT UP BEFORE I SLICE YOU TO PIECES!"

"But Slendy is cool. When you mention it, all villains are cool, but Joker is the Real Deal. I even have T-shirts with quotes, you know, and I brought all of them…"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT"

"Everyone I know tells me I have a nice voice. Don't you like it? My heart is broken, chica…"

"… Did you just call me 'chica'?

"But aren't you one?"

A few moments of silence, predicting a storm coming. In this room. With me in it. Damn, it was a man. I was wrong. I won't ask for forgiveness in my last living moments, because I've never done something wrong. God, now I believe in you. Can I go to Heaven, please, hell seemed like a mean place in 'Divine Comedy'.

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME A WOMAN, YOU GODDAMN BITCH?! SHUT UP, IT'S A FUCKING ORDER!"

"Are you my boss? I heard he had scars on the face and you have none. Oh you, you lying bastard…" I cursed myself for the words in the next second. Damn, can I shut up at moments of life and death like this? And I was definitely dead, if I had to judge from the dude's face. Again, can I go to Heaven, please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?

"I'M _YOUR_ FUCKING BOSS, SLUT! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I TEAR OUT YOUR SPINE AND SHOVE IT IN YOUR THROAT!

"But…" After a second, I was currently having the honor of being personally kicked out by Long-Haired Dude. Literally. He used some painful kicks and that's how I found myself out of the room. Ten or eleven bastards were just standing there, looking at me like I was some kind of a weird alien.

"What?!" - I screamed at them, my face promising long and painful death. They stopped staring and I started walking in a random, unknown to me direction. And that's when the awful realization hit me like a speeding truck again (a lot of realizations hit me these days, don't you think so?) - Long-Haired Dude was the oh-so-famous-and-feared Squalo Superbi, Sword Emperor, Second-in-Command of Varia, one hell of a scary motherfucker indeed.

Was I totally screwed on my very first day as a Varia member? Correct answer is 'yes'.


	4. III: Warm welcoming

**A/N: Hello, random strangers! Here's the third chapter. I'm not very happy with it, but I honestly didn't know what to add, so I just decided to post it. Again, forgive me for the stupid mistakes. Reviews are always welcomed. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**_  
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_III: Warm welcoming from Squad A and Mamma_

I'm an idiot and yes, this is a perfect way to start a train of thoughts. Why? Because I was lost again, all thanks to me being a stubborn piece of perfection. Continuously refusing to ask for the right way, I was still in the main wing, wandering around like a total creep.

Unfortunately, I passed a mirror and I think it broke because of the view. My hair was uncombed, curls long gone, leaving place for something that looked like a very messy nest. Ruined make-up. And I really had a cut on my face, but it didn't even look bad, so no scars. Letting out a quiet 'phew', not-so-pretty-anymore me continued walking.

Hour or two passed and I was still lost. Damn, why the bastard didn't give me a map? He just kicked me out like a stray dog, hurting my almost non-existent feelings. But my revenge is coming… in the next ten or twenty years, if I'm alive. Now that I mentioned it, being alive looked impossible for me now. Only if I could shut up once in a while …

And here comes the first dead end and with that - a desperate need for a cigarette or something alcoholic. Weed can do the miracle too. But there were none in my pockets, so I was left with more of the depressing thoughts. Deciding to stop wandering, I finally gave up and sat on the floor. Maybe I was waiting for someone, maybe I was just desperate, I'm not sure, but everything seemed lost to me now.

I don't know how much time passed, but the salvation finally came, in the form of a high-pitched squeak that turned my internal organs upside down.

"Oh yooouuu~ How did you get your hands on the boots? They're lovely!" In front of me was standing a man. At least I think it was a man. With sunglasses (even if we were indoors), tri-colored hair and neon feather boa. The face screamed 'male', but the voice was telling a different story. Damn, if the Varia is filled with gender-unknown bastards I'm doomed.

"McQueen is worth everything." This sentence didn't really make much sense, but… what can I say? I'm desperate right now, that's my reason.

"Honey, you can say that, but I always preferred Louboutin, if we're talking about beautiful shoes… However, what are you, such a cute little creature, doing here? You're not even wearing the uniform~"

Cute little creature? Me, cute? This must be a joke, there's no other explanation. And I though that my sentences don't make sense. But I didn't really want other enemies on my very first day, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm new and very much lost."

"Awww~ I know how you feel! I was like that in the beginning, but that was looong years ago~ Dear, are you from my squad?"

"Don't think so. I already met my boss. I called him a woman and he literally kicked me out, screaming like a madman. " I got up from my not-so-comfortable spot, looking at my new companion. He seemed somehow familiar, but I was sure I never met him. You can't simply forget someone like that, you know.

"Oh, so you met Squ~ Isn't he charming?" Him? Charming? Is that dude insane or something even worse, because there was completely nothing charming in my new boss. I decided to shut up again, because speaking my mind is often insulting and I often end beaten up. Girly guy continued talking and I forced myself to listen. "Anyways, I'm Lussuria, but call me Lussy or even better - Mamma~ We're going to be such good friends, honey, I can see that~"

Is Lussy high or something? If he is - I want some of that shit, because it seemed good. No sober person can think he will be on good terms with me. Me of all people. There was a complicated dilemma again - to ask or not to ask about drugs. Second opinion looked more acceptable, so perfect me decided to choose it.

"Valentina here. Now, Lussy, can you _please _show me where, the fuck, are the bedrooms for Squad A? I'm lost here and damn, isn't that place fucking huge?" The dude didn't seem to mind my language and that was good, because to stop using it seemed kinda impossible, at least to me.

"No problem, honey~ I'll tell the boys later that we need maps or something like that. Newbies are often lost and if they meet Bel-chan - often end up dead. Aren't you lucky?" Bel-chan kills them? Damn, I won't survive here. And if I meet Bel-chan - chances are zero percent on my side, so yeah, I'm lucky.

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We talked about fashion on our way to the bedrooms and Lussy seemed more and more likeable to me after every second. Really, that dude is awesome and I wanted him for Squad commander, but this seemed like a very distant dream. Instead, I got a psycho androgenic fucker that wants me dead. I can't really decide if this is my lucky day or not.

After a twenty minutes of walking, I was finally in front of my room. Its location seemed hard to find at first, but there was a note with my name on the door, so I found it with almost no problems. Lussy said something about taking care of his boys (does he have a harem or something? I want one too!) and started walking away. When he was out of my sight, another realization hit me and I started running after him.

„Do you smoke?" I shouted and a couple of idiots looked at me strangely. I ignored them and continued running until Lussy was in my sight again.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but the answer is no. It's unhealthy." And he walked away again, leaving me depressed and desperate.

"Damn!" I shouted again, idiots stared. I wanted to smash their heads, but the idea wasn't very good, so I decided to try my luck. "Does any of you fuckers smoke?" One of them nodded, others were still giving me looks. "And can I have one?"

"No problem, baby." Baby? What the fuck, man? I just felt the scowl appearing on my face, but I bit my tongue, restraining myself from cursing him and/or kicking him in the nuts. If he was good-looking - no problem, he can call me 'honey', but that one… Late thirties, beard and very, very unattractive face. Ew. But that didn't stop me from accepting my dear cancer stick. He looked like he expected a 'thanks', but the fucker received none.

I paid them another glance and went in my room. My first job was to light the cigarette, deeply inhale, another inhale and finally - look around. And damn, wasn't this fucking huge?

Well, it wasn't huge, but pretty big instead. Comfy-looking bed, side tables, desk, shelves, another shelve for weapons and shit like that plus a nice carpet and curtains. Three doors in total and that made me hope that one was for a walk-in closet. I always wanted one, it just seems too cool. A place for all the shoes and clothes and accessories and… However, lets return to the room. Everything was in Renaissance style and that wasn't so good, because I always preferred high-tech but I can't be too picky, can I? It was for free, no payment and shit, and that made it good.

Five minutes of bliss, meaning smoking, passed and I opened one of the windows to throw the cigarette butt. Okay, good, now comes sleeping, just because it seems like I need some. Not bothering to undress, I threw myself on the bed and on the blankets, because getting under them seemed like a hard and unpleasant action. The very strange and eventful day passed like a movie in front of me and then I fell asleep.

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I was peacefully sleeping and dreaming about unicorns, rainbows and things like that when something cold and mean poured over me. In the next second, I jumped from my bed and landed on the floor, my eyes wide open and the view was everything but pleasant. Around twenty bastards were around me in a circle, one of them holding a bucket. And they started laughing.

"Welcome to the squad, woman!"

"GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I SMASH YOU TO PIECES!" Bastards were still cracking because eventually the sight was funny. Funny for anyone but me.

"Hahaha, so funny, makes me crack. NOW OUT." They laughed for a couple of minutes, looking at me. And they finally left, leaving me awake and mad. But it seemed like the middle of the night, so I had to get up and release myself from the wet clothes.

So I just went to the dry half of the bed and fell asleep again, this time thinking about nasty fuckers and buckets full of cold water.


	5. IV: Epic failure called 'Training'

**A/N: Here's the fourth chapter. I'm not happy with the last part, but I tried editing it and it didn't become better, so I'm just posting it like that. Thanks to xXBloodyIllusionXx for the review! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN!, THE VARIA AND SLENDERMAN. **

* * *

_IV: A new friend, epic failure called 'Training_'

Something that looked like Slenderman, but with even more arms, was chasing me in the corridors of my parents' house. I don't know why, but I had the feeling that this was Bel-chan. The thing held an axe in each arm, and damn, didn't it want to kill me? I kept running and running and somehow I found myself in the main wing of Varia Headquarters, Bel-chan still after me. There was a loud banging and I tripped, falling on the ground, the thing all over me.

But this was just a weird dream, and in reality I fell off the bed, the banging coming from the halls. Taking the covers and making them into a something like a dress, I got up and opened one of the doors. Unfortunately, it leaded to the bathroom. I tried my luck with the next door - indeed a walk-in closet. But with the third one, my luck actually worked - there was a dude on the other side of the door, staring like me.

"What?" What can I say, I'm not a morning person, even if I wasn't sure if it was morning or night. It was pretty dark outside, but it was the end of November, after all. Dude didn't mind at all and that seemed normal. After all, if he's from my squad, he must be used to not-so-nice language.

"Rise and shine, um… whatever your name is! It's time for morning practice!" How can he be so cheerful at this time? If it's morning, it must be like 5 am or something.

"What time is it?"

"5 am." Damn, I was right. And why the fuck am I up at 5 am? It's still night for me! It seems like my face said it all, so the dude continued talking "Morning practice is at 6 and half, so I figured you would want to take a shower and shit like that. Be grateful, I'm doing you a favor here. Nobody was going to wake you and Captain would kill you. "

"And why exactly are you doing a favor to a newbie?"

"Because, you see, women are something rare here and I try to keep them alive." That didn't make any sense to me, but, hey, guy wanted to be helpful or to hit on me. I can't say no, because he was kinda good-looking. "And no, I'm not flirting with you, if that is what you think. You're too skinny for my taste." Does he read my mind, for fucks sake?!

"Fast metabolism, dude, fast metabolism"

"If you say so. Anyways, do you know where are the training grounds?" This time, reading my expression wasn't going to be hard - it felt like I was giving him my best 'WTF' look. "Be ready at 6 and quarter, I'll wait for you here."

When he left, I realized two things: 1) I didn't ask for a name and 2) Getting ready will be quite fast, because I didn't have anything, meaning clothes, make-up, hair straightener and things like that. Wasn't I screwed for the n-th time in two days? Answer is yes.

Taking a bath took me about half an hour. I had quite the trouble when trying to dry my hair with a tiny towel, so I had to tie it up when it was still wet because lack of any better choice. Washing make-up from yesterday with water was hard, but I managed to do that too, and now I looked like a zombie, face being too pale and shit.

My clothes were still kinda wet and wearing uncomfortable boots with high heels was painful after climbing a tree when wearing them, but I didn't have choice again. So I just sat there, on the bed, feeling depressed, desperate and hungry, waiting for helpful dude to come.

* * *

I just started playing one of my phones games when the banging on the door returned. Putting my phone on one of the side tables, because my jeans were still wet, I got up from bed and opened the door. Helpful dude greeted me with something resembling a smile.

"You look like shit." He said, not caring for my feelings at all.

"Thanks for noticing, I really appreciate it." But I didn't and my face said it all.

"Just saying. Anyways, my name is Dante. For the procedure: nice to meet you, I hope you last more than a month." More than a month? Damn, with every second, this whole thing seems like a horror game-Sparta hybrid. I'm fucked up. Still not caring about my feelings, Dante continued talking. "And if you're not careful, you're going to end up dead pretty fast. And stop taking drugs - if you're stoned when working, Captain will chop you to pieces." Seriously, what kind of sorcery is this?! How does he know about my drugged past (meaning months ago)?

"Valentina here. And how the fuck do you know that?"

"I'm just good with reading people. That's why I'm alive after years in Varia, you know." A sigh escaped my lips. After the nice, calm feeling, I felt stupid because for a second, I thought he was a prophet or something crazy like that.

We talked about random shit like that for another minute or two, when Dante said that we should start walking if we didn't want to be late and we really didn't want that. So we started our ten minute journey to the training grounds. I don't know if the dude wanted to scare me or just share experience, because he started talking about newbies ending up dead and that happened mainly in this squad.

"And then came 13th of March this year." He sighed, looking at the ground for a moment.

"Oh, I think I was stoned then… What happened?"

"One of the hugest newbie massacre in the history of Varia." I gave him a questioning look and he continued talking. "Captains' thirty birthday. He was very, very pissed that day, big thirties after all, and the newbies were annoying. So he chopped them all to pieces. A minute of silence for the poor guys."

When the minute was finally over, we already reached our destination. Dude looked at his phone and said we were two minutes early. He looked pleased so I thought that this is a good sign. "Quick instructions, Valentina: You keep your mouth shut and you obey. If you do that, you will be alive."

* * *

Damn, that place is fucking huge! I mean, it's like a whole wing of the mansion, just without the walls. Well, there were some doors, so there must be other rooms, but… It's huge! I was just circling around, still thinking about the size of the… room when I heard the already familiar screaming.

"LINE UP! MOVE, YOU FUCKERS, MOVE! I DON'T HAVE A WHOLE DAY FOR YOU, IDIOTS! FASTER!" And I completely forgot about the instructions. With a huge grin on my face, I started a conversation.

"Wassup, maaan, wassuuup?!" My dear boss looked like he was going to explode.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH, AND LINE!"

"Awww, and I thought that you are going to be friendly today, but it looks like you still want to tear out my spine and shove it in my throat like you wanted yesterday. Such a shame, man, such a shame…"

"AND I FINALLY WILL IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP!"

"But why? I'm just trying to be polite here, starting a conversation."

"START RUNNING, YOU BASTARDS! YOU" I scratched my head and looked around, searching for the fucker my boss was calling. It turned out he was calling me. Such luck. "COME HERE. FASTER, SCUM!" He was at the other side of the place, so I took off my boots, earning some strange looks from the others, and started running at the bastard's direction. After half a minute, I was there, face to face with my boss. Who looked like he wanted me in pieces.

"What the fuck, woman?" He said, pointing at my bare feet. And damn, I heard him talk for the first time.

"It was painful. I was climbing trees wearing them yesterday, what did you expect?" Gender-unknown facepalmed.

"Whatever, bitch. Weapons?"

"Yeah, I like weapons. I find them lovely." Another facepalm, making me feel like a moron.

"I'm not fucking asking if you like weapons, I'm fucking asking if you have any."

"Nope. Everything's at home. Sorry man, maybe next time. " Third facepalm for two minutes. Damn, this dude needs anger-management classes.

"I'm your fucking boss, address me as such, for fuck's sake!"

"Aye, Capt'n! Waiting for orders!"

"THEN START RUNNING BEFORE I CUT YOU IN HALF!" I started explaining how I couldn't do it, because my feet hurt. After that, my sweetheart of a boss grabbed my shoulders, turned me around and gave me a starting kick on the butt. And I didn't have any choice again. Fucking bastard, he will pay. Dearly. Maybe after a ten years.


	6. V: First mission, old friend

**A/N: And fifth chapter is here! Compared to the other ones, this one is much more serious (and short), because I didn't want to keep this story humor only. Sorry for possible mistakes, but I'm kinda sleepy and I might have missed some when checking. By the way, something I always forgot to put here: this is an 8YL story, even if that became quite clear in the previous chapter - Squalo being thirty years old. Thanks to xXBloodyIllusionXx for the review, I appreciate it. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_V: First mission, old friend_

A week passed, shit were still the same. My new comrades still gave me strange looks, I still cursed and insulted them. My charming boss still hated me, because I wasn't two-faced - I showed my disrespect right in his face. So Capt'n Squalo was still screaming, looking completely insane (and maybe he was) whenever I was making grand appearance. Morning practice was twice a week, but that didn't mean slacking off was accepted. And I trained a lot or I received some pretty painful starting kicks from Gender Unknown.

I don't have a freaking idea how, but my stuff came on my second day, right after the goddamn practice. Everything, excluding some weed and two or three pairs of shoes. The missing shoes happened not to be one of my favorites, so everything was good, but I missed the weed. And I worked so hard to get it back then! It's not fair!

The bad thing was that I desperately needed something to calm me down a bit and cigarettes and alcohol didn't do the trick. I needed weed, but the money were absent, even if I was part of one of the best crime organizations, excluding the BBF (Big Bad Families).

But good news finally came when I was just chilling in my room, being bored to death and lacking smokes for the n-th time this week. There was knocking and when I opened the door, the very familiar face of Dante was in front of me. We were something like friends now, I think.

"Don't look so pissed off, I have something good for you." He stopped talking, eventually expecting a reply, but the look on my face was enough again. "Mission for you. Well, not only you, but you get my point. Captains office in fifteen minutes."

"Like I know where it is. Damn, dude, I thought you knew I suck with directions and shit."

"Follow me then."

And we started another journey again, this time for something actually useful and nice.

* * *

Dante, being a somewhat polite dude, knocked, expecting an answer. When the usual screaming came, he opened the door and we were in.

"Wassuup, boss?! I heard something for a mission. I totally can't wait for the money, so bring that shit on the table and let's get started!" Gender Unknown didn't seem to like my enthusiasm, so there he was, doing that hilarious thing with the vein and the eyebrows. I couldn't hold my laughter, he was even more pissed.

"SHUT UP OR I'LL FUCKING CUT YOUR TONGUE! Listen, you scum. There are some trashy addicts that owe money to that fucking brat Sawada. Being a total pussy, he tried warning them friendly for around twenty times, but they still didn't return the goddamn money. The other brats convinced him to use the Varia. So we either take the money or their heads and carry them on a silver plate for the scum. Got that?"

Damn, that's the longest I heard the bastard talk somewhat calmly. He's always screaming and I swear he's going to look forty years old soon. Dante nodded and I raised my hand.

"What now?"

"How much money am I going to receive?"

"YOU'LL GET WHAT I KINDLY DECIDE TO GIVE YOU, EVEN IF YOU DON'T DESERVE IT, BITCH."

"But that's not fair, boss, because I work hard!"

"You? You of all people work hard? Don't make me fucking laugh and shut up. Whatever, scum, we leave at 10 pm. If you're late, I'll break your fucking arms. Now get the fuck out!"

We? The bastard is coming? Why the hell is that happening? It's not enough that I can't shut up, no, the fucker has to see me in my worst light and hey, he might finish me now. It's not like he's incapable of doing that, you know, but there's no problem at all. Fuck my luck.

* * *

I must say that I hate the uniform with my guts. It's very comfortable, yes, but not my size. Why? Because the biggest sweetheart in the world decided that smallest male size will be fine and it wasn't. The coat was somewhat baggy and the too-huge-for-a-woman hood made me look like a goddamn bear, but who cares? Certainly not him.

But that doesn't mean that I'm not glad to wear it. Especially now, in this wet, dirty and yucky falling building, meaning the nest of the "trashy addicts". The flat, over-the-knee black leather boots were helping too. There was no light and I was tripping all the time, imagine what was going to happen if I was wearing 15 cm heels.

My sight was still almost non-existent, so I had to follow the sounds coming from the four men in front of me, and they were very, very quiet so the mission was very hard. I bet my trashy boss is overflowing with happiness because of my misery and suffering. That bastard.

Our goal was the underground floor, so there were steps, because the elevator was broken for a long time ago. I found the said steps in the hard way - tripping and almost falling. A quiet snickering was heard and damn, that sounded suspiciously like my bastard of a boss.

At first, I thought that my eyes were adjusting because the darkness wasn't so thick anymore, but it turned out there was a light bulb actually working somewhere deeper in the Mother Earth. So we kept going down the stairs. The light was getting closer and closed and a scream indicated that we were done with the stairs.

"VOOOOOI! DROP EVERYTHING, SCUM! ON THE FUCKING GROUND!"

I just stood there, staring at the sad view in front of me. The bastards were around fifteen, all of them with that hobo look -ripped and dirty clothes, too many infected wounds. Meth wasn't doing them any good, that was the only thing that I could tell. I was still staring when the somewhat familiar voice took me out of my trance.

"Chris? Is that you?" The face seemed unfamiliar, but with every next second it became more and more recognizable - that was one of the guys that 'helped' me with my first arriving at Italy - Lance. It was him, even with the rotten flesh. What the fuck is he doing here? At this time?

"Fuck, Christine, don't you recognize me? Can you help me? You can, right? You can help me, right?"

Capt'n Squalo and the other three were staring at me. I stared back, not knowing what to say or do. Because the dude just called me by my real name, and they didn't know that 'Valentina Romano' was a fake one. Damn, I'm screwed.

"Are you delusional, bitch? There's no fucking Christine here. Just me." My voice was shaky and my acting - really bad, but that was everything I was capable of right now. "Now, money or your life. What's your choice?"

"I h-have some LSD. Here, take it! Just spare me, please! I have a kid!"

"Now, now, don't lie. Everybody at your damn position claim to have children and family and… Unfortunately for you, I don't buy that shit anymore." But there was a kid. Just as dirty and hobo-looking as the rest of the poor bastards. How didn't I notice it? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I turned my head towards my dear boss, waiting for some kind of an order, because I was feeling pretty damn confused. He just smirked, left eyebrow raised, eyes at my direction.

"They're all yours, _Valentina_. Kill them however way you want."

I kept staring at the kid for I don't know how long. It was a boy, around 9 or 10 years old. Skinny, dirty, rotten and ripped pathetic remaining of clothes.

"The kid too?" My voice was shaky again, showing how much I hoped for a negative answer.

"Do whatever the fuck you want."

"Then will somebody take the boy out? And bring me the Kalashnikov."


	7. VI: First meeting with Bel-chan and Levi

__**A/N: And here's the sixth chapter, this time with nothing even close to serious. I planned to add Levi and Bel later, but I just couldn't wait to do it. I checked it for mistakes and I did't notice any, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have some and I apologize about that. Reviews are always welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_VI: First meeting with Bel-chan and Levi_

The day was December 1st, Sunday and somewhat nice, if I skip the fact that I was hungry enough to eat the fridge, if I actually could find one. And I was bored. Really, really bored, with absolutely nothing to entertain me. Well, it's not like I didn't receive a generous check for my first mission. Some of the money were for a laptop or something like that, but… What can I say? Six pairs of new shoes and a dress were far more appealing at that moment. I spent the rest on 20 cigarette packs, a new pipe and some weed and there was nothing left in the end.

So here I am, laying on the bed, bored and hungry to death. If Dante was here, everything was going to be better - he can take me to the kitchen, after all. But he was on a mission and I didn't have a guide, so everything was pretty fucked up. Again. After five or six cigarettes, I started feeling sick, because it's not good to smoke that much in the morning, before the coffee and meal, but the coffee and the breakfast were at the kitchen.

Two more cigarettes, some phone games and I finally decided to try and find the damn kitchen with no help, even if it was going to be much needed. Getting up from bed was hard, taking off clothes and going in the bathroom - too. I almost fell asleep in the shower cabin, so I started shaving my legs to wake myself up and I ended with some pretty bad cuts. Fuck my luck.

When I finally finished showering, I got out and Surprise Motherfucker! - the room was freezing cold and I was very much naked and exposed to the cool, December air. Because of that fact, I was fully-dressed up in two minutes, ending with a unsuccessful outfit - tight, V-neck shirt, the uniform pants (still the smallest male size, damn it! Screw that bastard of a boss) and one of the new pair of shoes - neon pink boots with spikes on the 15 cm heels.

I grabbed my phone and a unopened pack of cigarettes and I stormed out of the room, with the intention to eat the world if I had to.

* * *

After some walking, there was more and more walking, walking, walking, jogging on high heels, walking, jogging and I found my perfect self in the main wing again. Let's hope I don't meet the sweetheart, because he wasn't very pleased with my existence lately. Ten antagonizing minutes of walking and I found myself in the lobby, with the newfound hope to see Lussy, so he can help me find the goddamn kitchen in the right wing.

I circled around more until I heard something that sounded like voices, two or three. I started walking (again) at the direction and found myself face to face with a plain white door. The motherfuckers were talking about something behind the door and I found the courage to actually open it.

When I entered the room, I found myself in a sparkly-clean kitchen. Bastards were two, one sitting at the table, the other - laying on the table. At first, laying one looked like an alien or something like that, because of the missing eyes and huge grin from ear to ear, covering the entire face. After some more staring, it turned out that eyes were missing because of the long, blonde fringe, covering half of the face. The other half was the smile. Creepy bastard. With a tiara or something like that, making him even more creepy.

Other motherfucker looked like a gorilla at first. Weird, huge black hair, sticking in random directions, even more fucked-up moustache, a lot of piercings and tiny, tiny eyes. Gorilla was all covered up with an uniform, the only visible part was the face (unfortunately).

They weren't paying any attention to me, like I was invisible and last time I checked, I was very, very visible to the world.

"… and when the peasant cut my face, I pealed the skin off his head~ It was so amusing~ Shishishishi~" What a laugher. Creepy just like it's owner. Said owner started shaking because of the weir, hissing sound.

"Why didn't you just kill him? You could just… The door."

Both fuckers turned their heads at my direction, staring. Well, blondies' eyes were covered, but I was sure he stared too. Gorilla was checking me out. Ew.

"And who might you be, peasant?" Blondie asked, cracking because of a private, unknown to me joke. And peasant? Me? What the fuck, man? But I wisely decided to shut up. Bastard was talking about skinning somebody alive, after all. I don't want to be next.

"Don't tell me you're one of boss' women! Don't!" Overly-attached gorilla jumped off his seat, sweating, with uneasy expression on his face. And me with the Varia boss? Damn, that's impossible, I don't even know him. And I heard he had red eyes and ugly scars so no, thank you.

"Relax, dude, relax. I was just looking for the kitchen for the squads. "

"I'm your superior, address me as such!"

"You don't say."

„I'm Leviathan, Lighting guardian of Varia, Boss' right hand, leader of the Lighting Squad!"

"Wow, your parents hated you so much, didn't they? Anyways, I thought the right hand was Capt'n Squalo."

"That bastard's not the right hand! I am!"

"Keep thinking that."

Gorilla looked like he wanted to beat me up badly. He even jumped from his seat again and if looks could kill - damn, I would be dead already.

"Shut up you peasants. It's an order from the prince." Blondie with tiara looked quite pissed off. He even prepared some weird-looking knifes - five in each hand - looking ready to stab us to death or something lame like that. But prince? Seriously, man?

"I won't accept your orders! Only Boss can give me one!"

"Don't argue with the prince, peasant~" Retarded prince-wannabe threw the knifes at gorillas direction. Poor gorilla managed to dodge nine, but the tenth one hit him in the hand. He finally got up and grabbed blondie by the neck, knocking him off the table in the process.

Even if this scene was very interesting, I decided it's time for me to go and made a perfect escape, leaving the two idiots to hopefully kill each other for good.

* * *

After twenty minutes of circling around like a moron, my powers came to an end and I was too hungry to continue my journey. With an annoying feeling for déjà-vu, I sat on the floor, depressed again, images of huge pizza slices in my head. I needed a smoke badly, but being an absent-minded perfect creature, I forgot my lighter in my room and there was nobody to ask for another. So I just sat there.

Ten minutes of pure agony and the salvation in form of one Lussy finally came.

"Honey, your boots!" My best friend at the moment squealed, adding a very high-pitched scream of delight at the end. My years! They're burning! "What are you doing here~"

"… I was looking for the kitchen, but I got lost. Again. Can you show me the way, I'm desperate and dying from hunger here!"

"Aw~ You poor thing! Let Mamma help you, sweetie!" Lussy squealed again, compassion all over his face (with way too perfect make-up). "The squads kitchen is too far, I'm going to bring you to ours and make you something to eat! We can't let you starve, can we? You're skinny enough now~" I got up from my uncomfortable spot, flying steaks all in my mind, until I finally understood what he wanted to say.

"Don't. Please. I've been there, Blondie and Gorilla are currently trying to smash each other's heads. Not a pretty picture, I can say."

Lussy nodded and started dragging me at the opposite direction of my path from a while ago. We walked for a while in a slow pace, talking about fashion and pretty male models. And then he suddenly stopped talking about the Paris Fashion Week last year, looking at me with an amused expression.

"So you met Bel-chan and Levi already? Aren't they cuuuute~" So THIS is the Bel-chan of my worst nightmares? This retard? Seriously? And I was scared since I heard for him the first time, imagining Slendy with axes in each hand, even dreaming about it? Oh Brain, why are you doing this to me?!

When I started laughing, Lussy gave me a strange look, but then I was rolling on the floor, shaking and cracking up, he just stood there, looking at me like he was asking himself why are such idiots like me still alive.


	8. VII: Formal party from hell

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, but I had to rewrite the chapter, because it was short and somewhat SqualoOC, and I don't want that. So I rewrited most of it, added a Yamamoto scene and it became the longest chapter of this story. Reviews are always welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND VARIA.**_  
_

**P.S. Pairings time! Before asking this question, I must say this: this wont be a 'they married, had shitload of children and lived happily ever after' story. I'm talking about a chapter or two, a scene or something like that. The question: Can you suggest me the very first pairing in this story?**

* * *

_VII: A formal party from hell_

So I received a laptop, after all. At first, Sweetheart ordered me to buy one, because that's how everybody received "invitations" to their boss' office. But I was broke again - with the next check, I bought sunglasses, two purses, pair of perfect shoes and cigarettes. And I took care of my hair again - it grew a little and my natural color started showing, so I had to visit a hair stylist for bleaching and dying. Money were gone fast and Capt'n had to buy me a laptop (he wasn't very pleased. Not at all).

So here I was, laying on the bed, wearing a stolen from Dante shirt, smoking and doing nothing useful, when an e-mail came. It was from Sweetheart and that promised nothing good, but I had to read it if I wanted my head to be on my shoulders.

'In my office NOW.' It said, and that was never a good sign. Did I screw up something? Did he found out my stash of weed? Did he think I was a spy or something shitty like that? Damn, I'm screwed again.

So I had to get up from bed and find something decent to wear. I chose a neon green top, the uniform pants and black pumps, with a matching belt. Wearing rings and bringing box weapons wasn't much necessary (even If I had them with me, if Sweetie wanted me dead - I will be dead), so I didn't take them with me. I grabbed my most important shit - phone, cigarettes, lighter - and shoved them in my pockets, finally leaving the room.

It seemed like a lucky day for me, because I reached the office in ten minutes, not ten hours, without getting lost even once. So here I was, standing in front of the massive oak door, trying to solve the complicated dilemma - to knock or not to knock. After a few moments of intense thinking, I decided not to so I just opened the door and made the first step.

Something crashed near my head. It turned to be a phone… was a phone. Capt'n looked even more pissed off than usual and that never was a good sign. Fuck my luck. It was very hard to restrain from screaming the usual 'wassuuuup?!', but I had to if I wanted to live.

"Why the fuck aren't you wearing the whole uniform?" He was talking kinda quietly. Fuck fuck fuck.

"I look like a bear with it, not my size at all." I said, restraining to say something dumb again. I expected something to crash again, this time on my face, but nothing like that happened.

"Whatever, bitch."

A few minutes of very, very awkward and unwanted silence, and that wasn't good at all, because Sweetheart always had something to shout. One or two more minutes and I finally opened my mouth.

"So, why did you call me? A new mission or something like that, boss?"

"Fuck no. The damn brat invited us to some shitty pre-New Year party. Fucking boss decided to skip, but the rest of us had to attend with goddamn escorts. The fucking problem here is all of the bitches I called are busy."

"So… Hire a hooker or something?" Unfortunately, my good intentions were taken pretty badly. And I just wanted to help.

"Why the fuck should I give money to some whore when I have a free one to use?" Well. This is shocking. My whole life was a lie!

"You have a girlfriend or a wife? Damn, this is too unexpected…"

"I'm talking about you, moron." …The fuck?

"WHAT?! But we're not married, are you delusional or something, capt'n? Sorry, it just won't happen between us, we're too different… And we have this huge age difference. Sorry."

"VOOI! Are you stupid, bitch?! I'm fucking telling you that you can be my fucking escort for free!"

"I'm not that cheap! You can only buy me with a lot of money!"

"SHUT UP, IT'S A FUCKING ORDER. BEING A FUCKING ESCORT IS AN ORDER TOO! And wear something normal or I'm going to tear out your fucking nails with pliers, got that?!"

Damn, am I screwed again? Looks like my life will be fucked till I live. And I'm going to live a very, very short life, because screwing up a lot never seems enough for me, and this time Sweetheart will finally end my life. And I'm only 21 years old, I'm too young to die! Then a good idea (this is a first!) stuck in my head. I played with it for a minute under the burning glare of my nice boss.

"Why don't you order me something 'normal'? If you don't want - that's fine, I'll wear the neon green dress with spikes I just bought. It's fabulous, I'm telling you!"

"ARE YOU INSANE?! I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DEAL WITH YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES!"

"So I'm going to wear the dress."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" A few moments of unwanted silence again and Capt'n continued, this time with a normal tone. "What's your size, bitch?"

"Size 1, A-cup, shoe size 37. Both long and short dresses suit me but don't order a very short one, because it will be like a top for me. Ah, by the way, I'm 171 cm tall on flat shoes, 105 cm legs and my waist is kind of thin."

When he finished writing down my monologue, he literally kicked me out. Again. Charming motherfucker, I can say.

* * *

It was December 9th when the day of the damn party came. If the party was on 31st, it was going to be so much better - Capt'n missing and a whole too drunk to walk squad, but luck wasn't on my side again. Not like it's anything new.

When I was finally ready, I shoved all of my shit in the purse, paying a final look to the mirror - dark blue short strapless dress, black pumps with 12 cm heel, matching purse and some massive silver jewelry. The hair took me hour and half, the make-up another hour, but it was worth it - I had this retro look, meaning curls, a lot of eyeliner and dark red lipstick. After fixing my rouge and adding another layer of lipstick, I grabbed my light brown trench on my way of leaving the room.

I had to run down four levels of stairs in uncomfortable shoes, because Sweetheart was probably pissed off and tired of waiting, meaning my nails were going to be missing from my fingers after the party. So after a decent amount of running, I was finally in the lobby, being the only one late. I noticed four bitches I never met and a weir person which had to be the Mist guardian. After all, the green hair was impossible to notice.

Capt'n was actually pissed, so he scolded me, meaning screaming right at my face. Bastard even took off my rings, screaming that it was too flashy. Green haired dude paid us an apathetic glare and we finally left.

* * *

If Lussy wasn't with me, I was totally going to die from boredom. This dude saves my life, I swear! And he was the only one with stylish clothes - white suite, which I recognized to be a part from last year's Armani male collection, light pink button-up shirt and shoes in the same color. The gold watch and very, very expensive sunglasses were the final touch to the already fabulous look. Other fuckers were wearing simple black suits, with simple white shirts and even more simple black shoes. No imagination at all, I can say.

The Vongola brats turned out to be a little older than me, all of them annoying-looking. I didn't had the chance to talk with even one of them and that seemed like something good to me. So here I was, talking with Lussy about pretty men in the room, desperately trying to get drunk with expensive champagne. Mission 'Get Drunk' was unsuccessful, meaning the party was too boring for me, even with one of my few friends in the Varia, actually in the whole world.

Things were bad already, but they even got worse when I saw one of my exes in the crowd. Said bastard was with his new wife, as I heard, looking even better than in my memories. In my opinion, I looked completely shitty, desperate and singe to be seen by him, so I had to run again, this time in the direction of the balcony. That wasn't easy, because the ball room was huge just like the rest of the mansion. At least I met a waitress on my way, grabbing two vodka shots and drinking them in the same time.

When I finally reached the balcony, the vodka already did its job, so I was very drunk and everything was very blurry. Lighting a cigarette and taking inhaling a couple of times did its job too, so I received this sick feeling in the stomach, meaning I was at the verge of showing my breakfast to the world. So I just stood there, feeling like shit. My legs were shaking a bit, so I sat on the railing.

Minutes or hours passed, I don't really know, when I felt another human presence near me. I raised my head a bit, seeing a somewhat tall, black-haired Asian dude, who was looking at me with concern.

"Wassup?" This was everything I was capable of saying, because, you see, I couldn't stand on my legs - speaking properly was kind of impossible. After a few seconds, I realized that this was one of the Vongola guardians.

"Are you okay, miss?" Dude said, still looking at me.

"Nope… Not really. I'm too freaking drunk thanks to that bastard…"

"Oh, I see. I'm Yamamoto Takeshi by the way, nice to meet you!" And he gave me one of these smiles, burning my eyes in the process, even if it was night. Damn, too positive energy for me to handle.

"Valentina Romano. Not too nice to meet you in this kind of state I'm in, y' know."

A few seconds/minutes/hours passed in silence, with me trying not to fall from the railing and Smiling Dude giving me looks full with compassion and understanding. Only his presence was enough to give me an instant headache - I can't handle nice creatures. At all.

"Valentina-san, who is with you? I don't think it's good for you to stay here. You need a good night sleep!" And he laughed, burning my ears this time. Damn him, why did he have to come here, with his positive energy and shit? I prefer Sweetheart and that's saying something.

"Capt'n Squalo Superbi the Nice."

"Ah, I see! I'm going to bring him right now, wait for me!"

"Damn it, don't! I'll be very much dead if you do…" But smiling dude didn't listen. I felt so depressed that I finally fell off the railing.

I don't know how, but after some time I found myself carried like a sack of potatoes by Sweetie, who was talking about drunk, annoying bitches and even more annoying brats. Then I started rambling about my ex, who had a nice life, a nice wife and even nicer looks and I was desperate and Forever Alone. Capt'n was talking again, but I couldn't understand a word - everything was blurry and unclear, even the sounds surrounding me.

After that, he threw me in the limo and I fell asleep, not knowing what's happening with me. At least I didn't vomit.


	9. VIII: Midnight snack

**A/N: And here's the eight chapter, after a minor writers block. I'm not sure if it's good enough to be posted, but that was my only idea for a chapter with Bel and I really wanted to be with him. Sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a very good beta. Reviews are always welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_VIII: Midnight snack_

I was awake for fifteen minutes, but too afraid to open my eyes or worse - to get off the bed. Damn that party, damn Sweetheart, damn my ex, damn everything in this fucking world. I'll stop drinking and I start from now. After another fifteen minutes, I finally opened my eyes. The light coming from the moon blinded me, making my eyes ache like hell. After the pain passed, there came the blurriness, after that - the black spots all over the room. Fuck.

I blinked a couple times, waiting for the fucked up effect to pass, but it didn't happen, so I closed my eyes again. Five minutes and I opened them - everything was a bit blurry, but it was bearable. Shit became bad again when the sick feeling in my guts came, so I had to get up and run like crazy in direction of the bathroom. Opening the door was hard, getting to the toilet - even harder, but I succeeded.

After emptying my stomach for a couple of minutes, I got up, hardly standing on my legs without falling. I just stood there, waiting for this unpleasant effect to pass and it didn't happen. The sickness appeared again and I had to crash on the toilet seat again, trying to make myself comfortable (unsuccessful).

Another five minutes of stomach emptying and I was finally alright, if we don't count the blurry sight and the funny feeling in my legs. Without bothering to take off the dress and shoes, I went in the shower cabin.

I just sat on the floor, very cold and unpleasant water pouring over me, waiting to get better. The already wet dress gave me chills, so I finally took it off, then my socks, after that the underwear and finally the shoes. Watching the wet pile of clothes made me sad, after all it was from an older Versace collection and it was worth shitload of money. Now it was ruined for good. Not like I paid for it, but still.

I don't know how much time passed, maybe a hour or two, maybe just moments, but this time my head started aching and I had to get up and find a pill or something like that. Getting up was hard, but I still did it and it made me feel proud. Finding something for my aching head was hard too.

The bathroom was freezing cold but I didn't bother to search for a towel. I started looking around for pills and I finally found some antibiotics in the cabinet above the sink. I didn't know if they were the right thing to take, but who cares? It's not like I could feel even worse at that particular moment, so I took three pills instead of one, just to be sure.

But it didn't make me feel better, so I finally found a towel. I threw it on the floor when I realized my skin was already dry enough. I tied up my hair in a high ponytail, even if it was still wet, and I started looking for something to wear because damn, wasn't I hungry enough to eat the kitchen with the cook in it?

A green very oversized shirt that I stole from one of my comrades seemed good enough, but finding underwear was hard. It was a miracle that I found a pair of red boy shorts for less than a minute, but searching for a bra seemed unnecessary and troublesome, so I skipped that step. It's not like I really need one, being flat as a board, but whatever. The only pair of shoes I found were the brown Ugg boots that reached my knees. After putting them on, I started the long and fucked up journey to the kitchen.

* * *

The kitchen of the squads wing was completely empty. I mean, I remember ordering pizza yesterday and it was gone now. The fucking bastards ate it and it was going to be Apocalypse tomorrow because of that. Let them meet my wrath. And I paid for it with my very last money, for fucks sake!

There were only fruits and vegetables in the fridge. Yuck! The alternative seemed too fucked up and annoying, so I decided that it was better to starve than to eat this shit. Cooking something wasn't a choice either, because I never cook - I order or make others cook for me. After some time wandering around the dark and empty kitchen, I decided to visit the one in the main wing.

Lussy once mentioned that cooking was one of his hobbies and he was on the way to master it to perfection. After thinking about that for a moment or two, the realization hit me - he cooked often, so there must be something left to eat in the kitchen. I'll go there, eat it and if the Big Bad Bastards find out - I'll just blame somebody else. That plan is so perfect!

After twenty minutes of slow and painful walking, I was finally there. It seemed dark and empty at first, until I heard a voice. Said voice seemed familiar and after some thinking, I realized it belonged to Delusional Blondie.

"What do you want, peasant?" Even the sound of his voice made me irritated and ready for a verbal fight. I almost opened my mouth, but I stopped myself. After all, bastard had shiny, sharp knifes and he was way too ready to use them.

"I'm hungry and our kitchen is empty." And how the fuck did he find out that I'm a squad member, not one of his fucking colleagues? Maybe his hiding his eyes because he has some weird ability to see in the dark and through every object? I almost started laughing because of the weird thought - too much superhero movies for me.

"The Prince gives his permission for that."

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore. I'll just go sleeping."

"It's an order, peasant. Do it or pay with your life~" Damn, like I'm going to accept an order from this retard. But I didn't have choice, because the knifes - eight of them - were slightly visible even in the dark.

I turned the lights on and I started regretting in the very same moment. Bastard was staring at me. I can't be completely sure, but his head was turned at my direction, giving me chills. The only good enough to eat thing was a pizza remaining, so I took it without thinking for a moment. Putting the box on the table, I took the seat far away from Blondie.

"Come closer, peasant. The prince wants to talk to you." Well, fuck. I got up and took the seat next to the freak.

"The prince can't sleep tonight. Froggy was asleep and the prince couldn't torture him." Not only the delusion of being a prince and the way of talking, but now the bastard tortures animals. Damn, I was dealing with a weird and rare type of sociopathy now. Screw my life. Totally.

"I see…"

"Are you one of Captains bitches, peasant?" The question was like a very good and painful punch straight in the face for me. Me? Really, Blondie, really?

"No fucking way in hell. I'm a Squad A newbie and I happened not to cost a cent to be an escort, you know."

We ate in silence, if I exclude the weird hissing laugh of Blondie. And yes, we - bastard started eating MY pizza after he finished talking. The urge to break his shiny, white teeth was too big, but I stopped myself - knifes, after all.

"The prince can't wait for his birthday~ Boss promised a good, long and bloody mission in Germany~ The prince will have such fun killing an entire family! The blood, the screams of the peasant, their insides…"

Damn, this retard is pretty twisted, I can say. Not only killing animals, but now chopping people to pieces just for the fun… Damn, I must get out of here now. I mean, right now. Who knows what's going to be on his mind next. Maybe cutting off my fingers or tongue? I started eating way faster, hoping to finish the pizza for a couple of minutes.

Blondie kept talking about mass murder and carnage, this time about how he killed his entire family when he was eight. And the explanations were quite detailed, making me wonder if it was his weird fantasy or reality itself. After that came the blabbering about the Coup D'état. That made me slow down a bit, listening carefully, but bastard only talked about chopping the Ninth's men to pieces nice and slow, about their screaming and their prayers.

I stopped listening, concentrating on eating faster than ever. After a couple of minutes, I was finally ready to go and have a good morning sleep. So I just stood, said something like goodbye and left. Insane bastard was still talking even if I was out of the kitchen. Damn, I hope my next encounter with him is in the far, far future. It's going to be even better if there's no such thing as next encounter, but I know my lack of luck very well.


	10. Character Profile

**A/N: This chara profile came out of pure boredom and lack of muse for a whole chapter. As always, reviews are appreciated (even if there's no need for one here). **

* * *

**Given name**: Christine le Maire;

**Birth date:** 29th February 1991

**Age:** 21;

**Zodiacal sign:** Pisces;

**Birth place:** Marseille, France;

**Currently used name: **Valentina Romano;

**Current location**: Somewhere in Italy;

**Occupation: **Member of Varia's Squad A;

**Family: **Parents - alive;

**Hair:** Waist length, straight, bright red;

**Eyes:** Blue-green;

**Height:** 171 cm;

**Current weight**: 52 kg;

**Skin: **Very light, almost white; lots of beauty marks;

**Tattoos/scars/piercing**: 4 tattoos - neck, between the thumb and index finger of right arm, right side of collarbone and left ankle; scars - huge K carving on stomach, bullet hole on right leg; piercings - tongue, one on each ear;

**Loves: **Herself, handsome men, weed, money, shoes, sleeping;

**Hates:** Observing, sleeping less than 8 hours, her parents, annoying people (mostly female), hangovers;

**Weapon:** Good with heavy melee weapons (axes, hammers, mallets), uses 45 kg battle hammer;

**Box weapons: **Said battle hammer, poison spiders - named Spidey 1, Spidey 2, Spidey 3, Spidey 4, Spidey 5, Spidey 6...;

**Flame:** Storm;

**Other information: **Represents the deadly sin of greed.


	11. IX: The diet for gaining weight

**A/N: Here's the ninth chapter, after the unexpected muse strike today. I must say two things - first, I concider 2004 to be present time, because that's when the fist chapter of the manga came out, meaning this story takes place in 2012, being 8YL. Second, I made Valentina's opinion about Christian holidays just like mine - since I remember myself, I'm pretty much an atheist, but my family still celebrates Christmas and Easter. Thanks to xXBloodyIllusionXx about the review! As always, reviews are welcomed. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_IX: The diet for gaining weight_

I swear, Christmas is the weirdest holiday ever, at least for me. My parents were Catholic just like the rest of the family and they tried to raise me that way, but here I am, still being an atheist. But everybody celebrates Christmas, even the non-believers like me, if you're in a Christian country. I'll still get drunk, I'll still smoke some shit and from the generosity of my heart, I'll offer some to my comrades. And I'll still wait for presents and bitch and whine around if I don't receive any, because this is me and my way of celebrating holiday of a religion I never really believed in.

Whatever. This time of the year makes me philosophic and even I don't know why. And I'll stop right now, I promise.

But I had a major problem - first, I didn't have a cent again and second, no one could celebrate with me right now, and with celebration I mean getting too drunk to walk. Dante still hasn't returned, the others were just annoying and Sweetheart… Why the fuck was I even thinking about that? I mean, if the bastard saw me drunk like hell again, my head was totally going to be absent. And Lussy was on mission too, so nobody here to cheer me up a bit.

My depressing thoughts unfortunately didn't change the time and space - it was still 5 am, there was still morning practice today, even if it was two days before Christmas Eve. So I got up from bed with too much effort, taking all of my clothes (meaning stolen oversized shirt and underwear) on the way to the bathroom. I took a nice, long bath, finally washing my hair after two antagonizing days of not washing it. Shaving everywhere took me ten or twenty minutes and when I was finally out, it was already 5 and half.

Still wearing the two towels, I finished my pizza and yes, the pizza is in my room. Why, you ask? Answer is simple - the bastards eat everything they lay their eyes on and the food paid with my money stays in the room. When the spring comes, I'll buy a fridge, really, but it's still the end of December and my room is cold as a fridge, so no need for now.

Brushing my teeth and drying my hair, straightening it on the way, took me another half an hour. I decided to wear a simple white V-neck shirt, so I had to find a white bra and that was a very hard mission, because I had only two and my room was a mess, everything being on the floor and chairs but I succeeded. Putting on the uniform pants and the over-the-knee black leather boots and finding box weapons and rings took ten minutes and here I was, finally ready to go. So I started my journey again.

* * *

Pretty me entered the training grounds, walking like a boss. Other bastards just stared at me strangely, but who gives a fuck? Not me. When Capt'n is absent, the floor is a catwalk for me. But fuckers still stared and stared and stared and that annoyed me, so I finally opened my mouth, talking like a boss again.

"What?" Well, that didn't come out as expected because of my sleepiness.

"Did you lose weight, woman?"Alfonso, one of the comrades who always ate my food, said, looking with mild interest at my body.

"Maybe. That happens when YOU bastards steal my pizza!" But others didn't say anything, they just stared at me, mostly at my legs and for the first time, they weren't checking me out. Damn, there must be something wrong.

"And I thought you can't get skinnier. Damn it, woman, start eating, I bet you don't weight more than 45 kilos and with that height…"

"For fuck's sake, I eat every piece of meat and bread I see! Five meals a day and I always eat all the content of the fridge!" But my comrades were pretty skeptical, their face said it all. "Don't you believe me?"

"No." This came out as a chore, all of them actually agreeing on something. Damn, this is a first. All the bastards looked like they were thinking very hard about something, probably about a way to gain weight fast with a fast metabolism. However, their deep thoughts were interrupted by the familiar presence and screaming of Sweetheart.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU FUCKING MORONS?! START RUNNING ALREADY BEFORE I FUCKING END YOU!" All started running the standard ten laps, except me.

"Wassuuup, Boss?! I fucking missed you!" Not. If I never see him again, I'll be the happiest person alive, but whatever. I expected a scream, maybe a starting kick on the butt again, but nothing came. He just stared at me, like the others did. Damn it, not again!

"COME HERE, BITCH! NOW, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, NOW!" I didn't have a choice, so I started running at his direction. After two minutes of very slow running, I was there. Capt'n didn't say anything, he just grabbed my shoulders, turning me around and damn, that glare was burning my back. Eventually the staring was finally over, so he turned me around again, this time to face him. "How much do you fucking eat?"

"Five huge meals per day, with the bread and everything. Yesterday, I ate a whole pizza. I ordered another and it's already finished. And I only drink coke, alcohol and coffee, no water." Bastard looked like he was thinking really, really hard and I don't have a fucking idea what was in his mind this time. Damn, what's happening with the entire squad? Am I the only one normal here?

"Bitch, dif any darker or lighter spots appeared?"

"No."

"Bleeding beauty marks?"

"No."

"Headaches?"

"No."

"Coughs?"

"Um… No?"

"Lumps?"

"You mean like breast cancer? Damn it, Sweetheart, do you think I have cancer? I don't." Fuck, how did this happen? Why did the nickname I always used slip so easily? Fuck. Bastard was giving me a weird look and I'm pretty sure it was because of that.

"… Sweetheart?"

"Yes, that's how I call you in my mind, Boss. If 'sweetheart' means violent, brutal and screaming bastard, that is."

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING EYESIGHT, BITCH! START RUNNING! NOW!" And I finally received the very familiar kick, calming me down a bit. Not everything went completely mad and that's good.

After the standard jogging came the real deal - actual fighting for practice. I broke three arms, one leg and seven fingers in total and I had a broken finger and rib myself, so everything was good. Damn, thanks to this huge battle hammer (God that I don't believe in, bless the Avengers, because they are the reason for this!), I make shitload of damage even if I'm not trying hard. One swing is enough and the opponent's head is on the wall in pieces. I'm so good!

There was supposed to be more cardio workout, but none came. Sweetie just stormed out, using the standard 'Go die in a hole!' goodbye, but leaving half an hour earlier wasn't standard. I got up (I fell on my face earlier) and started slowly walking in the direction of one of the few pretty comrades - Francesco. A little taller than Gender Unknown, short black hair, nice tan, dark brown eyes and pretty face - exactly my type. But he, unfortunately, seemed not interested and that was depressing.

"What's up with him?" I asked, not knowing what to expect as an answer.

"The captain of Squad D, Belphegor, has birthday today and there's a desperate need for measures."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he goes on killing frenzy, chopping people to pieces all day. I heard there was a mission in Prague for him, but it got cancelled. In cases like this, Captain locks him in the basement until his birthday passes." When I heard the last sentence, I started laughing like mad. The image of Sweetie locking Delusional Retard in the basement was so detailed, making me crack up. Damn, this is so unreal!

But Francesco smiled at me and this is the only thing that matters. So I turned on the charm I used with my early drug business, hoping that I'll finally get a chance for some action in bed. I mean, I didn't have any sexual life for months and a pretty dude was everything I needed.

"Now, seriously examine yourself. There must be something wrong if you're losing weight like that."

"I will." And I gave him my most charming smile ever. He smiled back again, giving me nice chills on the back. Damn, isn't this good?

* * *

After eating a lot of bread, two stakes and two cups of coffee with lots of sugar, I finally returned to my room to take a bath. After carefully examining every piece of skin, it turned out there was nothing disturbing. No weird lumps too, my beauty marks were perfectly healthy and not bleeding and headaches were only after a lot of drinking. Nothing disturbing, really. I promised myself that I'm going to get some medical checking after Christmas or New Year Eve and proceeded with the bath.

Later that day, when watching a cheap horror movie that made me laugh so hard, the unexpected e-mail from Sweetie came, full with Caps Lock and ways to gain weight and detailed instructions about strength workout. In the end, there was the simple and usual 'Fuck you' and some treats about breaking my spine and fingers if I don't do everything that he said.

Fuck that bastard. Instead of bothering with my weight, why didn't he just proceed with locking Blondie somewhere, maybe in the attic this time? Only the thought made me fall from bed after too much laughing.

* * *

**P.S. I don't know how the idea about locked up Bel came, but I used it anyways. **


	12. X: Christmas at its best

**A/N: And here comes the tenth chapter, full of squad bonding. I shouldn't be pleased with this chapter, but strangely I am, even if it's somewhat emotional. It wasn't supposed to be, but, hey, it's Christmas in the story, everybody's emotional on Christmas. Anyways. Thanks to HG59 and xXBloodyIllusionXx for the reviews! As always, reviews are always welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_X: Christmas at its best_

Let's just say that my Christmas started pretty shitty and it was only 7 am. Why am I up so early in the morning when it's still dark outside? Well, the Christmas Eve was spent with lots of weed and alcohol with my dear comrades and damn, wasn't it so perfect? We trashed half of the wig, we broke the fridge, we broke a few noses, drank all the alcohol and smoked every gram of weed we found. I didn't expect it from the guys, but they turned out pretty cool. We were even going to make a huge 'Fuck you!' graffiti in Sweethearts office, but the idea didn't seem really good even then.

But… the morning wasn't so good. Damn, it's one of my worst moments in life. Headache, sick feeling in the guts again, aching feet and a cut on my cheek (I don't know how that happened). The worst thing was that I couldn't throw up even if I really wanted to and the headache was still there, after a whole blister of painkillers. Fuck my life. The only gift I received was the Christmas check from Gender Unknown. It was a generous amount of money, yes, but everybody else had the same. That made me feel so un-special, but whatever. At least there's no morning practice today. We will survive.

The only 'must do' for today was the strength workout in the gym - part of the 'Gain weight' deal. Damn, fuck that bastard for making me do anything involving effort with hangover. But I could do that later, meaning the only important thing for now was to get rid of the headache and finally throw up. I won't touch weed and alcohol for the rest of my life, I swear. Well, at least for a week, but that doesn't really matter.

After another unsuccessful try to empty my stomach, the only good enough opinion was to take a nice, long and hot bath, no standing on my legs in the shower cabin and shit. While waiting for the tub to be filled, I took off my clothes for yesterday, removing the ruined make-up on the way. Five more antagonizing minutes of standing naked in a freezing cold room and the bath was finally ready. Not bothering with bath foam - I'm a tough piece of beauty, I don't need bubbles and shit like that - I jumped in, hitting my head and arm. Fuck.

I just laid there, half of my legs out of the tub, only my eyes and nose showing just enough to breathe, waiting the pain in my head to disappear. My phone was ringing from the room, but who gives a flying fuck? Not me. So I started examining my nails and the already half-erased yellow nail polish. The neon color made me kinda sleepy and I tried really hard to stay awake, but it was unsuccessful. So I just fell asleep.

* * *

I don't know how much time passed, full of pleasant, +18 dreams with Francesco, but something woke me up. I raised my head a little, only to hear footsteps from somewhere near me. And then the fucking door started opening. As every normal person would do, I grabbed one of the towels on the floor, desperately trying to wrap it around me and totally failing.

"Merry Christmas, honey~" Damn, it's just Lussy. I couldn't hide my grin, because I was actually happy to see him. The dude was one of my few friends here and the only Big Bad Bastard that didn't want to kill me. I threw the towel on the floor, not caring at all that I was naked and every part of my body - visible. Lussy is practically female, so why the hell not? "I have a gift for you! You will love it!" I continued grinning, the feeling that someone actually bought me a present creating a nice, warm feeling in my stomach.

"So, how was Budapest?"

"Perfect~ I added new beautiful bodies to my collection~ Can you believe it?" This left my jaw hanging in mid-air. Damn, I must stop being impressed by his strange… habits. But still. "I called you earlier to tell you I'm back, but you didn't answer."

Lussy dramatically pouted, waving his left arm around, trying to look even more dramatic. I was unimpressed so he stopped the act. I couldn't stop the sigh that came out of my lips - my best theory about the call was that Sweetie saw the damage to the wing and that was a sign to hide in a hole for my dear life.

"How was Christmas for you, honey? Had a good time?"

"I don't remember much."

I got up from the tub, because the water was already cold, meaning unpleasant experience for me. I noticed Lussy was looking at me with a worried expression, mostly at my even skinnier legs. Damn it, not again.

"Have you lost any weight, honey? You don't look very healthy."

"4 kilos. Is it that bad, dude?" But he didn't answer. Damn, this is a first - somebody actually caring for my almost non-existent feelings. I found some dry towels (that's unexpected), wrapping one around my body and the other - around my head.

"Anyways, I have to go now to check out how are my boys doing~ They always create chaos when I'm gone~ Your gift is on the bed, sweetie. I left it there because at first, Mommy thought that you're not here. See you later~"

And he just left, leaving me checking out my reflection at the mirror. I actually looked quite unhealthy - my cheeks were almost absent now, the legs - skinnier, the accent was falling on my outlined ribs. I hate to say it, but Capt'n was right - I just had to gain weight. I hate to say that even more, but I finally understood why he was bothered by my skinnier frame - when I think about it, it seemed almost impossible to hold a 45 kg hammer with these lanky arms.

This train of thoughts was very depressed, so I decided to focus on nicer things, like my newest pair of wedges or food. But the bad thing was that I had to find something clean to wear as soon as possible, because today being the freaking 25th of December, it was freezing cold. No snow (c'mon, dudes, this is Italy! No snow here!), but still cold enough to reach my bones. After ten minutes of searching, I found a freshly washed pair of uniform pants, black polo shirt and mismatched underwear. Pink and green, worst combination ever, but who cares? It's not like I was going to undress in front of someone who's not Lussy.

I decided to wear one of my new pair of shoes - the lovely 16cm red wedge boots with spikes, but it was quite hard to find them. After some searching, with searching I mean making the room even more messy, I finally found them, putting them on and paying a glance filled with love towards my feet. Then I finally realized that I didn't see my present from Lussy and that was worse than the seven deadly sins for me. After all, I receive only one present and I don't open it when I lay my eyes on it? What kind of person would do that?

The box was small, with gold wrapping and black ribbon. It turned out to be a pair of perfect black sunglasses. After noticing the gold frame, I recognized Chanel. I put them on carefully like they were some kind of a treasure, examining myself carefully in the mirror. Damn, this is so perfect. Like the pair was made especially for my face. I almost started crying. Almost.

* * *

"What the hell?" This was the only thing that I could say about the kitchen. If this is a kitchen now. The sight of the broken to pieces fridge, all of its content on the floor, made me so sad. The table missed a leg, there were two chairs in total and damn, this really wasn't a kitchen anymore.

I wasn't the only one up and there were around fifteen bastards, all with this sad look in their eyes. This was one of the emotional moments, I said to myself, when we stood in a circle around the poor, helpless and broken fridge, almost holding our hands and crying in unison.

"We're terrible. This is worse than killing people for money, guys. "Enrico said, sadness in his voice. I gave him a look full with compassion.

"You're right. Maybe we should make a funeral or something. After all, we're all going to miss it."

And we just stood there, silently saying our prayers (even if all of us are atheists) for the fridge, thinking hard about its unfair fate. When the sadness was finally gone, I started thinking about our complete lack of food or something that can be eaten. Everything was rotting on the floor now, leaving no opinions for us. The stove was still alive, but we didn't have anything to cook on it. I finally decided to share my worries with the bastards.

"I don't want to sound cold, but what are we going to eat?"

"We can order something."

"Maybe pizza." I generously offered. Everybody accepted my offer.

"Let's make it ten boxes. If you're in that squad, you need a lot of energy." Alfonso said in one of his rare philosophic moments. We all gave him strange looks, because, you see, Alfonso rarely says something so true and smart.

And we ordered and when pizza guy came, we started fighting about the money, because no one wanted to give more than the others and let's just say it - we're always broke. And after that we cleaned the floor and sat in a circle, fighting about every last slice of the ten boxes. But it was also funny and I couldn't stop laughing, because even if this was one of my most miserable and unpleasant moments in life, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.


	13. XI: One is boring, two is a party

**A/N: And the eleventh chapter, which is the longest for now, full with weed and weird conversations. What's wrong with me? I mean, what's with the weird ideas? Anyways, thanks to xXBloodyIllusionXx for the review, I appreciate it! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! OR THE VARIA.**

**P.S. I forgot to add it in the previous A/N., but here's the tiny little spoiler: this won't be a sappy drama story, meaning Valentina gets cancer out of nowhere and everybody suddenly starts crying, even if they can't stand her. Nothing like that. I promise.**

* * *

_XI: One is boring, two is a party_

Let's just say that I had to find a new hiding spot for smoking pot. Why, you ask? Because yesterday, when I returned from the very boring, annoying and well paid mission, I found out that all of my weed was gone. Later, I found my dear comrades stoned as fuck, happily counting invisible unicorns in the air. And damn, that was a lot of weed. They said it was actually easy to find it - under the sink in the bathroom wasn't a creative spot for them. Bastards.

But later, when I wasn't so pissed off, I actually thanked the poor high fuckers. After all, the spot wasn't good enough, I smoked everything in my room and I bet that the smell coming from me practically screamed "Attention! Weed smoker!", even if since I was part from the Varia, I made the useful habit to use expensive and strong perfume.

So here I was, circling around the whole mansion with paper, heavy metal lighter and four tiny joints in my bra, you know, just in case. Lately I'm kinda paranoid about my illegal habits, don't judge me. After looking almost everywhere, minus the main wing, I was desperate. Every single spot was pretty much not suitable for getting stoned and damn, wasn't that a huge problem? I made a whole private tour again and no results, making the main wing the only one remaining. Even if I didn't want to, I just had to search there.

And I found myself stuck at the beginning, only after two hours of looking around and trying with my whole existence and soul not to be noticed by any of the Big Bad Bastards. Let's just say that even Lussy was against my smoking habits, Sweetheart was going to rip my tongue and teeth out if he found out, Gorilla was a no-no, I didn't even want to think about Blondie's reaction, I never actually talked with the Mist guardian and the oh-so-scary boss… I don't want that to happen, because all kind of rumors about him and his love for shooting people were floating in the air of the organization.

Everything was a secret. That didn't make me excited, oh no, it gave my perfect spine some nasty chills. After an hour of circling around and hiding in the corners like a total moron, I realized that I had to find a solution soon, because Blondie's voice was heard from somewhere near me and fuck, I didn't want to listen of his stories about gore and massacre or even worse - to become a target for his knifes.

And that's when the idea hit me like a massive truck. Blondie. Birthdays. Cancelled mission and Blondie being locked by Capt'n in the basement. Damn! The basement! The fucking basement! How didn't I think about that earlier? Damn, I'm a fucking genius! And if said basement was unlocked, today was going to be my lucky day. After all, who visits the basement in this era? No one.

So I crawled like the ninja I actually am until I found it - under the staircase for the second floor, with a massive, scary-looking metal door that turned out to be unlocked, meaning I actually found the perfect spot. But that was only if the prince-wanna-be wasn't locked in again. It turned out to be empty, making me very pleased with my brilliant thinking and very high IQ.

Quietly closing the door, I turned the lights on, looking around the huge room for something to sit on. At first, I noticed all of the wine bottles, neatly arranged in shelves at the opposite to me side. All of the aged, expensive alcohol was inviting me with an alluring whisper, saying "Steal us! We won't tell anybody!" but I somehow resisted and continued with my observing. There were tons of paper, mostly old mission reports from the time of the very first Varia boss, if I judge from their massive size. Old and broken weapons, boxes with random shit in them, chairs, tables, some paintings and other useless for me stuff.

The dim light was coming from two very dirty light bulbs on the ceiling, making it almost impossible for me to actually find something so sit on, but I spotted a pile of bricks. I dragged one with little effort next to one of the walls. I took my seat and finally started the real business - getting high.

* * *

The weed turned out pretty shitty, so I smoked two of the four joints. The effect was almost absent, so I smoked a regular legal cigarette. When I threw it, shit became better, making my knees tremble and placing a grin on my face. I just sat there, simply staring at the ceiling with a nice and relaxed feeling, thinking only about how uncomfortable was the goddamn brick.

But everything good came to an end, this time the end being footsteps from outside the basement, after that some whisper, suspiciously seeming like cursing and finally - an earthshaking slam of the door. Damn, I felt how the walls cracked. A lot.

Sweetheart stared. I stared back. He continued staring, I continued staring. We stared at each other for a couple of moments and I finally broke the heavy silence.

"Wassuup, Boss?!"

"What the fuck are you doing here, bitch? It smells terrible here, for fuck's sake!"

"Um… Well… You see… I wanted to think about life, love, happiness, Heaven, Hell, religion, child abuse, the hookers, existence of unicorns, the Varia, my comrades, how much I want to smash my boss' head on the wall…" In the very same second, I stopped talking, expecting a punch or something like that.

"Smash my head, you say, bitch." Sweetie had a completely new expression for me - one eyebrow raised with huge, one-sided smirk that revealed a dimple. He looked like the madman he actually was and damn, that face was creepier than the punches and screams and kicks. I shuddered, falling off the brick.

Capt'n finally noticed the three cigarette butts on the ground near my feet and it seemed like he finally knew that the smell was.

"God damn it, bitch, your file didn't say that you were a freaking addict!"

"But I'm not, Boss! I stopped the meth and this is just weed."

"Meth? You were a fucking meth addict?"

"Well, that was in high school how many years and horses ago was that?" Even in my state, I realized that the sentence didn't make ANY sense at all.

The bastard face palmed, walking in direction of the wine racks, still muttering curses under his breath and surprise! - it seemed like I wasn't the one who pissed him off this time, making me feel good about myself - if the fucker had a heart attack in the near future, I wasn't going to be the only one at fault. After grabbing one of the bottles, he started walking towards the door again.

"Whatever, bitch. Feel free to fucking destroy yourself in your free time, but if I find out that you're going on missions stoned - I fucking promise you that I will end you and I mean it."

I nodded, slowly waving my hand for goodbye. Damn, what does this bastard think? I may be anything, but I'm serious about my missions. I don't even drink alcohol when I'm working. And that's a huge lie. I drink a lot and I'm never serious, but Sweetie doesn't have to know this, even if he actually knows it. Whatever.

To be honest, I expected to hear the poor door slamming again, but nothing like this came.

"FUCK! OPEN ALREADY! C'MON, YOU LITTLE FUCK, OPEN! GAAH!" After that, something that sounded suspiciously like kicking something metal was heard.

I turned my head at the direction of the door and the sigh was priceless. I mean, I don't normally see Capt'n in a funny pose, meaning holding the handle with both of his arms, pulling like his life depended on it. Meanwhile, he was kicking the door and damn, that looked painful. I started laughing like mad; he gave me the usual 'Go to fucking hell' and proceeded with his oh-so-important job.

After a couple of minutes, poor bastard was practically on four legs on the door, still pulling with all of his might and soul, screaming on the way. I was already rolling on the dusty floor, cracking up like I was a mental patient. And when he finally fell on the floor, still screaming, probably the whole mansion heard my laugher. Not my fault.

When I was finally calm, I sat on the brick again.

"Better grab a brick, Boss. It looks like we'll spend some time together."

"So, when did you lose your virginity?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked when did you lose your virginity?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?"

"C'mon, dude, I'm just trying to start a conversation. I lost mine when I was 15. One of my worst experiences, I can tell you that."

"Bitch, I don't give a flying fuck who and when screwed you for the first time."

"Don't be like that. I'm telling you a piece of very important information about my personal life here! Oh wait… You're not a virgin, are you? Is that why you're not answering me? Look, I'll help you with this one, Boss. I know this nice girl from high school and she's a hooker now. She's pretty discreet too. I can give you her number…" Sweetie face palmed again.

"Bitch, I'm fucking thirty years old. Do I look like a virgin to you?"

"Um… No."

"You got your fucking answer."

We just sat there, on the uncomfortable bricks with even more uncomfortable silence. I wanted to continue the interesting conversation about Sweetheart's virginity, but it was pretty much one-sided. So I started another topic.

"What gender do you prefer?"

"What the hell?!"

"Let me guess: men."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"What? Aren't you gay? I always thought you were gay! Damn, my whole life was a lie!" My dear boss raised his hand again, but this time not to face palm. He slammed it on my forehead, making me hit my head on the wall. Fuck, that hurts! "So you're not gay…"

"Duh."

"So, when was the last time you got laid?"

"What's with the damn questions, bitch?"

"Maybe we will die here, who knows. It'll be nice to get to know each other better, you know."

"I don't think so." I decided to completely ignore that.

"And when was the last time you got laid?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Why not? I'll tell you my answer if you tell me yours."

"I don't want to know."

"But I do!"

"I don't."

"I do!"

"Shut the fuck up already!"

"But why?!"

"You're lucky I don't have my sword, bitch!"

"Why?!"

"VOOOOI! IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP I'LL FUCKING SHOVE OUT YOUR INSIDES AND I'LL CHOKE YOU WITH THEM! GOT THAT, BICH?! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Okay."

* * *

After two antagonizing hours of silence, the effect of the weed finally passed, making me depressed and desperate. Bastard didn't say a word too, so this made everything even worse. Well, I had two joints in my bra, but who knows how will the fucker react? But this was too boring and the time was passing very slow, it seemed like nobody was going to look for any of us. And if somebody eventually did - he wouldn't think about the damn basement.

I didn't have a better choice, so I decided to smoke my very last weed and who knows when I'll meet my dealer again. I bought some from him this morning, after all. So I shoved my hand inside my shirt, trying to get one of my joints, but the little fucker was playing some tricks, not wanting to get out. Capt'n gave me horrified look.

"Damn, bitch, not here, not with me in the freaking room!"

"I'm just trying to get my weed, Boss. What were you thinking?" The little bastard finally came out. I lighted it, inhaling very deeply, trying to keep the smoke in my lungs the longest I could. Then I noticed Sweetie waving his gloved hand at my face.

"Damn, give it already!"

"But you said…"

"This is _MY_ free day, bitch. I can do whatever the fuck I want to!"So I gave him the joint, he inhaled two times, giving back to me. After we finished it, we lighted the other one, smoking it too. After that came the final touch - the cigarette. And we just sat there, high as fuck, staring at the old mission reports. I started talking about how much I wanted aquarium full of piranhas, so I can shove random people's heads in to feed the piranhas. Capt'n agreed and started talking something about his boss, more likely cursing him and wishing he was never born. I agreed and agreed, nodding my head and laughing like mad.

An hour, two, three or a day passed, I don't really know and I don't really give a fuck, but finally the footsteps came from somewhere near the basement. After that, somebody simply pushed the door, entering in the room. I turned my head at the direction of the door, recognizing the Mist guardian.

"Dumb long-haired commander, you owe me one. Boss was so pissed off that you didn't give him his wine in time so he sent me. It's been three hours." Said the green haired dude with the most apathetic face I ever saw in my entire life. Damn.

"Shut up, fuckface." Was the very nice reply.

"And you were getting stoned with some chick. Seriously, Commander Squalo, what kind of person are you?"

"Shut up or I'll slice you to pieces. And this" Fucker suddenly turned his head towards me "this is your fucking fault, bitch."

I just started laughing because, you know, what the fuck?


	14. XII: Unfortunate event called 'Mission'

**A/N: I have a huge muse strike for the last week and, to be honest, I don't know where it came from and where it's going to end, but I'll use it. This chapter is serious, no weed smoking and dumb actions (I think). The shocker! Anyways, thanks to HG59 for the review! Another moment of honesty: Valentina was planned completely differend and I don't know how she turned out like this. **

**As always, reviews are welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_XII: Unfortunate event called 'Mission'_

What the fuck was I really doing? I mean, I was on my first actually hard to do mission and I didn't like it even one bit. The mission was simple to do, but hard - there was a large group of illegal weapon smugglers, selling on Vongola's territory and it was our job to finish them, take the weapons and money and steal everything that wasn't on their list.

We were 21 people in total, in 5 cars and a truck for the weapons - Sweetheart, me and ten others from Squad A, the others from the Lighting Squad, their annoying, hairy commander with us too. Damn, only the sight of him was burning my eyes like acid.

I actually brought my ugly over-sized uniform coat and that was good - I mean, no blood stains on my precious top and the smugglers' base was in the freaking Alps, meaning cold as shit. You see, it was two days before New Year Eve. And there was snow. I mean lots of snow. I praised myself in the second after leaving the car - earlier, the idea of wearing my newest red pumps seemed okay, but now I didn't regret wearing black leather boots that reached the middle of my tights. Not at all. The leather gloves were kind of useful too and I praised myself again.

So here I was, running around with the too oversized fur-lined hood on my head, looking like a total fucking moron. Damn, this place became battlefield in the very first moment we got out of the cars. Fucking bastards were around fifty, with the actual smugglers around ten and the others - bodyguards and workers, as the file I actually red earlier said. And they were very well prepared for this - the weapons were practically in their arms when we arrived. That was kind of suspicious, more likely too suspicious to miss. The only thing I didn't understand was that why didn't they run instead of staying here like idiots, waiting to be killed? But I didn't give a damn - this was war and I could die the same second I stayed in the same place.

After smashing to pieces two bastards in total, I started running again, this time hiding behind a brick wall to unleash my other box weapon. When I did that, the little unnoticeable spiders went in different direction. I didn't envy their victims - the poison worked right on the spot, meaning a painful lung paralysis and eventual death.

I spent a couple of seconds to look around the battlefield - multi-colored flame bullets were in the air, multi-colored animals - too. I saw a thunder-flamed cougar tearing apart one of the workers, not feeling sorry at all. But distracting myself with such things seemed like a good idea. Gorilla was launching his biggest and strongest attack and I was in the center of it, but I noticed a second later, so I had to run like my life depended on it. It actually did, but whatever.

Finding a new and whole wall was hard, but it eventually happened and I used it for hiding spot. Deciding to kill one of the last remaining bastards, I stood and in the very same second, I felt sharp, weak pain in the left side of my ribs. At first I thought it was a small rock or something like that, but when my insides started burning like they were on actual fire, everything became quite clear. With huge effort, I pulled the very small arrow that was sticking from my uniform coat, trying to examine it. But then the violent convulsions started.

I couldn't fucking breathe! And when I did, the pain was too much. I found myself making weird gagging sounds, rolling on the ground like mad. In the very same second, I threw up and the substance on the snow was blood. The burning became more and more painful, I continued coughing and puking blood. Both comrades and smugglers had the same fate as me. And for a second, everything became clear and I passed out.

* * *

I woke up in one of the cars with somebody that seemed like Dante, but I wasn't very sure. My stomach was aching badly and my lungs - still burning, but not as much as before. After that I noticed that my uniform coat was unbuttoned and strained with blood and my shirt - lifted. After that, I noticed the straw that was sticking from me, more likely where my lungs were located. I threw up on the seat again, passing out.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in the infirmary this time, with a very blurry and familiar pretty face above me. After my sight became clear, I recognized the yummy dude from my very first day here. I thought I was in love with him back then, but it turned out that I just wanted to screw him so badly. Well, I still wanted to screw him badly, but that doesn't matter.

I noticed that I wasn't wearing my ruined uniform anymore - the weird and ugly piece of clothing on me seemed like a robe or something like that. And no straws sticking from me this time. Looks like it was one of the times that a person just says "Thank God!", but it wasn't the right thing for me.

"Will I live?" Was the first thing I said.

"Yes. The poison didn't leave any traces in your body, but it filled your lungs with blood. It seems like you, Commander Levi and four others were the only one who pulled the poisoned arrows in time. The others are dead."

"Damn." We sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

Well, everything for this mission was clear to me now - smugglers were just baits, the real target being us and more precisely - the two Big Bad Bastards. And there was a freaking mole. After more time, I opened my mouth again.

"So, how many survivors in total."

"Nine."

"Damn."

"Yeah." More and more silence. I found myself staring at pretty dude's lips, just like the first time. This is kind of nostalgic. I started getting up from the bed and guy-I-want-to-fuck stopped me, pushing me down again.

"Better don't."

"Watch me." But Sex on Legs was right - the moment I got up, the burning pain in my lungs started again. I cursed, laying down again. "Fuck, you were right."

"Told you. Anyways, I'll go check the others. Don't get up soon, it'll be very painful for you."

He left; I just stared at his ass. The curtains around my bed were pretty much hiding the world for me, but they unfortunately weren't soundproof. Gorilla was screaming something like 'Boss! BOSS!' and it sounded like three or four guys were trying to hold him in one place. Poor bastards.

I decided that lying on my back wasn't comfortable enough, so I just rolled, settling on my stomach. But yummy guy missed one tiny detail - the skin on my ribs felt raw and bruised, giving me sharp and continuous pain. Making a strange unidentified sound of agony, I returned to my previous position.

Sleeping was the only good and not-painful thing to do, so I decided to do that. The energy was absent from my body, like I didn't even close my eyes for a second in week or two. But Gorilla still screamed like mad for his oh-so-precious boss, interrupting my already failing tries.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY, SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP HERE!" I shouted, ready to jump and beat the shit out of him (highly unlikely). But I didn't and that made me proud.

"DON'T ORDER ME!" He screamed back.

"I'M NOT ORDERING YOU, I'M ASKING YOU NICELY!"

"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME, YOU UNDERLING! I'M YOUR SUPERIOR!"

"BUT YOU'RE NOT MY FUCKING BOSS!"

Ugly bastard stopped screaming at me, but he was still screaming anyways, with the lack of intention to stop. Fuck him. If I could, I would strange him with a pillow, but if I tried, he was going to crush me with a single hit, so I restrained myself. I don't know how, but after some time I finally fell asleep.

* * *

"There's a mole." I stated the already obvious thing, throwing out of the window my finished cigarette.

"I know that. I don't even want to imagine what will happen to the bastard when the Boss finds him."

"Well, sliced to tiny pieces."

"Not that boss, Val. _The Boss_. "

"I see. Poor fucker then."

I just sat on the edge of the window, looking at my not-so-pretty-anymore reflection. My hair was messy, with some dark brown in it; my face - too pale, with huge bags under the eyes. I looked like a fucking zombie, but Lussy said it was normal because of the poisoning. Dante was laying on my bed, looking at me like he didn't see me for ages. Well, he was on a two-week mission and that was ages for me, because I happened to enjoy his company a lot.

"You know, I never met him, but I heard he was one hell of a terrifying bastard."

"Believe me, you don't want to. I met him once and I can only say that every rumor about him is true." Dante answered with a weir expression. It looked like he was remembering the unfortunate event.

"Even that he could kill people only with his eyes?"

"As I heard, some people die from heart attack on the spot."

"Wow."

We sat in comfortable silence for some time. I don't know what he was thinking, but in my mind was only the damn mission. Capt'n and Dante were one of the few that weren't hit with the poisonous arrows. It turned out that he was just lucky, being on the right place, out of the radar of the attack. I didn't want to admit it even to myself, but I admired how my boss reacted - fast and smart, on the very same second when the rain of poisonous arrows started. Damn the bastard.

Alfonso was dead, along with a couple of guys from the squad I never actually met. The dude always stole my food and he always talked about complete nonsense, but it didn't mean his dead didn't suck, even if we weren't really friends.

"And how are you?"Dante interrupted my train of thoughts.

"I look like a fucking zombie and you saw the skin on my ribs, but if we exclude that, I'm fine."

Said skin was all black and red and even I didn't want to look at it for more than a second, but Lussy said that's also normal and that it was going to disappear for a week or two, worst case scenario. But the hole for the straw was going to leave a scar. It turned out Dante gave the idea for this, because he saw it in a movie. He wasn't so sure that it was going to work, but we were already dead so they gave it a try and we actually survived.

"Dude, do you know what the fucking best thing is?"My friend gave me a questioning look. "The Vongola boss felt so oh-so-guilty for the killed people, so he decided to double the money for the ones who survived the poisoning. Who's rich now? Me, bitches, me!"

"You're finally your old self again. I thought it was never going to happen."

"I know you're jealous of my money!"

"Damn right."

And that made me realize everything was back to normal now.


	15. XIII: Here comes the 2013

**A/N: Here's the thirteenth chapter, without a serious word in it. Well, maybe a sentence or two, but that doesn't matter. It was supposed to be finished yesterday, but... what can I say? Anyways, reviews are appreciated, just like always. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**_  
_

* * *

_XIII: Here comes the 2013_

Well, how did the new year start for me? 'Shitty' is the answer, just like always, if I put 'me' and 'new beginning' in the same sentence. Damn this complete absence of luck. Let's just say that everything started pretty great - comrades in good mood, alcohol and a holiday are always a good combination. We drank too much again, just like Chrismas Eve, we trashed the training grounds this time and the infirmary was already ruined. Some broken beds, tables, chairs, sofas and doors and we finally calmed down. In the end, the repair for the whole mansion (because, you see, we weren't the only one raging drunks) was going to cost a million or two.

By calmed down, I mean idiotic dancing on even more idiotic songs on the few still standing surfaces. Let's just say that they didn't remain standing for long. Another million for that. But it turned out shitload of medicine for the effect from the poison and alcohol didn't mix too well. I remember falling, throwing up for the n-th time this week and after that, everything is a blur.

I don't really know if this was primal instinct for survival or a habit, developed for the month in the Varia, but I woke up at 6 am on January 1st 2013 at the very same spot I remember falling from the table. It turned out that it wasn't habit or instinct - one of my still drunk comrades was holding a frying pan like a totem, hitting it with a metal spoon, screaming like idiot on the way.

"Get uuuup, y' bastards! Morning practice! Get uuuuuuuuuup!"

Damn, this is so inhuman! How the fuck are we supposed to train in this damn state? None of us (except screaming moron with frying pan) could stand on one spot without falling for more than a second! I groaned and continued lying on the very uncomfortable floor, hoping that the dude would finally shut up and just leave me sleeping here. But no, that didn't happen.

_Baaaaaang. Baaaaaaaang. Baaaaang. Baaaaaang. _

"Get uup!"

_Baaang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Baang. Bang. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang! _

"Goddamn it, you fucking moron! Stop hitting that shit!"

"Gaaaah!"

"Fuuuuck!"

_Bang. Bang. Baang. Baaang. Baaaaaaaaaaang! _

"Just let me sleep…"

"STOP THIS ALREADY, MOTHERFUCKER!" I finally decided to join the nice and peaceful conversation by screaming kindly at the idiot. But no, he couldn't stop! How did I even think about that?! Instead, he just started hitting the goddamn frying pan with the goddamn metal spoon at 10 cm of my left year.

"Riiise and shiiine! We don't want out sweet boss to slice us to pieces, right? Now riiiise and shiiiine!" _Baaaaaaaaaaang!_

"Fuck that bastard!"

_Baaaaang! Baaaaaaaaaang! Baaaaaaaaaang!_

* * *

In the end, we didn't have choice so we got up. Standing up was hard, walking - even harder, but after forty minutes of hitting walls and falling, I managed to drag my ass to the training grounds. Damn, there wasn't a un-trashed thing in the room. That almost made me tear up - the guys did splendid job on breaking everything! Half a million for new equipment. I dragged a piece of brick from a destroyed wall to sit on while I was waiting for Sweetheart. He was late for the very first time since I knew him. Damn.

Exactly at 7:04 Sweetie appeared and fuck, I couldn't recognize him at first. Messy and uncombed out-of-control hair, bloodshot eyes, missing sword, missing boot, missing sock and for the first time - missing uniform coat. The wall-hitting and heavy smell of alcohol were the final touch to the 'complete retard' look. I couldn't hold myself.

"Looking good, Boss!"

"Shut up. Just fucking shut up."

Damn, this is like a completely different parallel universe! Un-proper uniform and quiet, normal talking? What the fuck? After ten minutes of silence, Capt'n finally decided to start talking again.

"What the fuck happened here? Whatever. Bastards, do… whatever you want to fucking do. Mornin' practice 's going to be tomorrow. If you wake me up, I'll fucking gut you. Now go die somewhere."

Wow. Just wow. He dismissed us from the morning practice I despised so much? I can't fucking believe this shit! This is so fucking awesome! Sweetheart was starting to grow on me. Not. But nothing good actually had a happy ending in Varia and the next thing that happened confirmed my theory.

The idiot that woke us up made a strange sound - something between battle cry and a dying kitty - and raised his frying pan again, hitting it with the spoon, still making that weird unidentified sound. And that's when the miracle happened. Capt'n turned around to face him, looked for something on the floor and he found it - a relatively small piece of brick. After a second, said piece of brick crashed right between idiot with frying pan's eyebrows. He passed out, making the goddamn sound in his last awake moment.

All of us, except our friendly commander, started screaming from pure happiness and great joy, but the bastard took another piece of brick and raised it, with this do-you-want-to-die-bitch look. Let's just say that we didn't even make another sound. Satisfied with the result, Trashy Boss finally left.

The weird thing is that dragging my ass to the not-so-much-anymore training grounds took me almost an hour, but going to my room after that - exactly seven minutes. I took off my clothes for less than a minute, because the damn room was like a fridge at this time of the day and damn, I was freezing. Untying my hair took seconds and without bothering to remove the make-up, I threw my perfect self on the bed, falling asleep the very same second.

* * *

I woke up at 6 pm, still feeling shitty. After some unsuccessful tries to fall asleep again, I decided to get up and actually do something useful, meaning to write my report for a mission from week ago, today being the deadline to give it to Sweetie (bitch said he was going to break my fingers if he didn't receive a report today, even if it was freaking January 1st). My room was still freezing cold because, you see, nobody fucking told me how to deal with the air conditioner and when I asked Dante, he just started laughing. Damn him.

Taking a nice, long and hot shower was my very first task. After that, I braided my hair in a one-sided French braid and checked my weight - 50 kg. I gained two kilos. Perfect. This diet was actually working and there was nothing wrong, but I was still going to check myself on my next day off. You see, my bastard of a boss still bitched about it. He wasn't going to pay an already dead person and blah blah blah. Fuck him.

I didn't bother with the hard task to find clean uniform pants, because Sweetheart was the only reason to wear them. When he was on mission, nobody wore the uniform. Nobody. I found another stolen oversized shirt (this time dark grey, borrowed without permission from Enrico), black skinny jeans and the brown Ugg boots. The outfit sucked so badly, but who gives a fuck?

I shoved all of my shit, meaning phone, cigarettes and lighter, in my pockets and started the journey to the main wing's kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee, because our kitchen wasn't a kitchen anymore, not after last night.

Walking took me fifteen minutes and when I was in front of the simple white door, I started quietly praying for myself (even if I'm an atheist) not to meet Blondie, Gorilla or even worse - Sweetheart. But voices weren't coming from inside and that was good, because I often heard the delusional prince wanna-be talking to himself (or an imaginary friend, not sure) and Capt'n was screaming at everything and everyone, even objects, even if he was alone.

I said a prayer again, finally opening the door and carefully looking inside like a ninja. Something very heavy fell from my chest when I saw only Lussy, cooking something in the oven and humming a pop song I heard somewhere. Unexpectedly, he turned his head at my direction, sensing my presence in the very same second I laid food in the room. We were friends, yes, and he was nice and fabulous, but he was also trained assassin and a twisted scary motherfucker just like the rest of the Big Bad Bastards. Damn, I always forget that.

The weird expression he had for a second was replaced by a smile.

"Honey, happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year to you too, dude!"

Lussy continued doing whatever he was doing on the oven and I took a seat at the table, looking around. Everything was untouched, unlike our pathetic remaining of a kitchen and the rest of the mansion. Damn, such a mystery.

"Anyways, what are you doing here, sweetheart?" Lussy asked, his head at my direction.

"Well, I just got up and I need coffee, but our kitchen is too trashed. How do I use that thing over here?" I pointed my finger at the coffee machine in one of the corners, Lussy waved his hand, looking at the something in the pot again.

"Wait a sec, honey, I'll make you a cup. I just need to finish over here."

After some time, he seemed to be ready with the unknown to me dish and placed the pot on one of the counters. Lussy started making me coffee doing weird shit to the coffee machine and damn, if I had to do this, the kitchen was going to be on fire already, just like this one time in high school, when I was still in the much despised France. The kitchen was on fire and I was too stoned to do anything. Repairing everything cost my family a fortune and maybe that was when they actually stopped giving a fuck about me.

"Hellooo~ Earth to Valentina~ "I snapped out of my thoughts. The much needed magical substance was ready and Lussy was giving me a weird look. "Cream? Milk? Sugar?"

"Two spoons of cream and sugar. No milk. I hate my coffee with milk."

My friend placed the cup with magical elixir in front of me and took the seat on my right side. He seemed to notice my intense stare at the pack of cigarettes and when I started playing with it without even realizing, he nodded his head. Damn, this is so perfect. He even gave me an ashtray! After I finally lighted the much wanted and needed cancer stick, Lussy made a strange face.

I noticed Lussy was in a perfectly healthy state and the usual mood, like it wasn't a holiday involving lots of alcohol. Instead of coming up with shitty theories in my head, I just asked him.

"How come you're not in a shitty mood? I thought all of you got too drunk to walk after I saw Capt'n. Dude couldn't even stand on his legs."

"It's rare for me to have a hangover~ And I didn't drink as much as the others~ You on the other hand… I don't want to be mean, honey, but you're not in your best state either."

"Pills and alcohol are a shitty combination."

"Aw, don't do that again! Believe me, it can get even worse." I nodded, inhaling deeply from the cigarette and coughing at the same moment. Fuck, I hate when this happens.

We chatted a bit about getting drunk in the past, after that about the mysterious dish that turned out to be a chicken soup. Lussy offered me some and I refused not-so-politely, because soup is simply yucky for me. After some more talking, I started complaining about my favorite thing ever.

"Damn it, dude, I need to get laid soon. I'm telling you I'm going crazy like this, two months for fuck's sake and that's a lot. I actually mean a lot. This is so pathetic…"

After that, Lussy started laughing. I gave him a mean look and he stopped for a second, but continued after that. When he finally calmed down - after 10 goddamn minutes - I received a knowing smile that pissed me off.

"I wish I had your problems, honey~ You're the second woman in a squad full of heterosexual men and the other one has a manlier body than Levi. I don't really get why are you complaining." He started laughing again and I gave another look that could kill.

"Well, dude, only one of my comrades is good for that. The others are just annoying bastards. And when I'm talking about annoying bastards… I still have a damn report to write, today is the deadline and I'll be dead if I wake my idiot of a boss for that. Am I screwed? Yes." Lussy started laughing. Again.

"Just e-mail it, honey."

I slammed my head at the table, letting out a desperate cry.

"I'm telling you I need to get laid!"

* * *

**P.S. I actually pity Valentina. Organization full of men and no one suitable. Poor her, but that's life anyways. **


	16. XIV: Meet the ex

**A/N: And here's the fourteenth chapter! Damn, the chapters are getting longer and longer - unexpected for me. Anyways, thanks to HG59 for the review, I appreciate it! And yeah, I tried to make my chick experienced with absolutely everything because... Well, it would have been weird if it wasn't like that. I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HTIMAN REBORN! OR THE VARIA. **

* * *

_XIV: Meet the ex_

It was January the 17th when I returned from this shitty, annoying and exhausting mission, feeling like complete crap with the only intention to sleep and sleep and sleep until the morning, even if it was just 5 pm. You see, we were hired to kill the wife of a well-known Mafioso, because the bitch was cheating on him and he was pissed off. If it was just that, everything was going to be very easy and pleasant, but no - the bitch had bodyguards, three of them. We had to kill them first, after that we chased her for half an hour and when we finally found her, the police came. Well, 'shitty' is the perfect word for this unpleasant experience.

When I finally closed the door of my room, my first job was to take long and pleasant bath to relax and calm down my nerves, because it felt like I would have heart attack every second, just because of the damn stress. I did the dirty job, meaning breaking the bitch's neck, but she wasn't so easy to kill, oh no, she just had to scream and scratch with that damn and longer than mine nails and mine were pretty long. So I smashed her fingers and blood got everywhere, even under my freshly painted nails.

So after the bath, I had to clean the blood under them and that was annoying and unwanted, but who asked me anyways? Nobody, for fuck's sake, nobody. I painted them again, this time in this lovely dark red nail polish, and proceeded with drying my hair. Damn, I really had to visit a hairstylist soon - the roots were brownish, plus some dark brown strands, so the bleaching and dying was much needed. Damn, wasn't I dumb? On my last day off, I went to check myself for some unknown disease in the hospital and I forgot about the hairstylist. Sometimes I piss off even myself, you know.

I was finally ready to go to bed, in my case to sleep because I was on the bed already. I covered myself with shitload of blankets, still unable to deal with the air conditioner and ready for the pleasant +18 dreams with Francesco or Sex on Legs from the infirmary, when my phone ringed. I ignored it at first, but it continued ringing and damn, if this was Sweetheart, I was going to bloody murder him (dreams, dreams). But it wasn't him - the number was pretty much unknown to me and it was French, so I was pretty screwed. How did the fuckers find me? I changed my name, location and phone number a couple of times, for fuck's sake!

After a minute of staring at the screen, thinking how fucked up was my life, I finally picked up.

"What?"

"Wow, Chris, don't you miss me at least a little? You're so mean." The very familiar voice said in perfect French. Damn.

"Noel? What the fuck? How did you get this number?"I continued in my mother language.

"You know I have my ways. Can you give me the number of your boss?"

"Just a sec… Wait, what?!"

"Yes, yes, I know and yes, rumors spread fast here. I was wondering about you, what are you doing and shit, because we haven't seen each other for a year, and it turned out you are now from Varia! And you always said that street level is the best…" I didn't know what to say, so my mouth remained closed. And he continued. "Anyways, my boss needs Varia's services, but finding a way to contact the bastards is hard, so I decided to call you."

"Your boss? Since when are you working for someone? You were on street level too, damn it."

"Well, everything changed. I have a solid business now. Well, my boss has solid business and I'm something like… Consigliere, if that is the right word. So, can you give me the number?"

"Well, I can give you my boss's number, meaning the second in command, if that works for you."

"Perfect."

After a couple of minutes searching in my other phone, I finally found it. After I said it to Noel, he thanked me and I thought that he was going to hang up, but he continued talking.

"Anyways, I don't think I could come in Italy with him, but if I do - I'll call you. I kinda miss you, Chris, it will be good to see you again after a whole year. Bye."

"Bye." I said quietly, still holding the phone next to my ear even after he hung up. After that, I threw it on the floor and it almost crashed. Damn, that phone call gave me very mixed and weird feelings that I didn't like. Actually, I hated it, so I threw up one of my pillows on the floor, starting to regret it at the very same second. Another sleepless night on the way.

Noel was one of my many ex boyfriends and the only ex that I actually missed. We dated two times - one in high school, when I was still dull and boring, and the other - when I returned to France. He was my third and the one who introduced me to the magical world of weed. And I missed screwing him. A lot. The weird thing was that he wasn't even close to my type for men. Fuck.

After five cigarettes and a lot of thinking, I finally fell asleep, but instead of nice dreams with Francesco, my dreams were with him.

* * *

But on 19th January, when I went to Sweetheart's office to deliver my report for the 'Kill The Bitch' mission, he was there with his boss and damn, weren't my legs shaking and not only because of the huge quantity of weed I smoked earlier?

"Oh fuck." I simply said and with that, I threw myself on Noel, giving him a choking and bone-breaking hug on the way. Fuck, he was still the same, still nothing close to my type - about Sweetie's height, slightly tanned skin, the same dirty blonde shoulder-length hair, tied in a low ponytail, the same dark green eyes. Even the scent and the voice were the same. Damn it, I just realized how much I missed this (mainly the fucking).

Capt'n and the other guy that turned out to be very skinny and tall middle-aged man gave us weird glances, but to be honest, I didn't give a fuck. When the hug was finally over, Noel started looking at me very carefully and profesionally, searching for changes and shit like that. After a couple of minutes of him spinning me around like a rag doll and Capt'n and other dude giving us weird and unpleasant stares, he was finally done.

"Damn it, Chris, your hair is longer! And you're skinnier… And you have a new tattoo..." I stopped imagining screwing him in my head and noticed the way he addressed me. Sweetie noticed too and gave me a mean look. Fuck.

"And you're still the same. Well, maybe a bit older. Whatever" I gave my sweet boss the report, pretending not to notice the way he looked at me. "Call me later. Or text me. Anyways, that's all. Bye."

"See you later."

When I left the room, I honestly didn't know what to think. I didn't even know why I wanted to sleep with him so badly, but my un-pure intentions were a fact and that pissed me off. What the fuck, brain? I mean, this is my goddamn ex and he is blonde, for fuck's sake, blonde! Why do I want to fuck him? Why, the fuck, why?!

But that wasn't my biggest problem. For the second time somebody calls me 'Chris' in front of my boss. Because, you see, there was a mole and it turned out I was a big fat liar and no, that's not suspicious at all. Seriously, fuck my life.

And when he texted me the coordination of the hotel, I took my time shaving and making myself pretty and after that - picking a nice outfit, because I knew perfectly well what was going to happen. It always happened with him - I always had intention just for a nice, friendly chat and it always turned out to wild animalistic sex all night, even if we weren't dating anymore.

In the end, I decided to wear light grey skinny pants, black top, neon red leather jacket with wedge boots and purse in the same color. Straightened hair, little make-up and matching underwear and I was ready for the evening and probably night. So I just shoved the usual shit in the purse, called a taxi and left without permission. Like I gave a fuck about permissions.

* * *

In the bar of the very nice and expensive hotel, we had a few drinks and it turned out Noel had a girlfriend, but that didn't stop him from kissing me and that totally didn't stop me from screwing him. A couple of times. Everywhere in the room. All night. Well, till 4 am, but it's still all night for me.

After the long and veeery pleasant experience, we just laid there and I didn't give a fuck that I was naked and uncovered, because, you see, the huge room was warm and air conditioned _unlike mine _so it wasn't a problem. I almost fell asleep, but my ex's voice woke me up a bit.

"That was… nostalgic."

"Yeah."

I started playing with a strand of his hair and that made the nostalgia even bigger. I always loved the hair, its color and its length. It wasn't very soft, but it always smelled good and I always played with it, mostly braiding it. And that was weird, because I always preferred guys with short and dark hair, Noel was the only exception.

"Are you cheating or someone with me?" He said, looking at me again.

"Nope. Still single."

"C'mon, nobody from the organization?"

"Nope."

"No friends with benefits with a comrade?"

"Nope."

"Even with the commander?"

"Nope for the fourth time."

"I see. So I'm the only one who's cheating? Is it weird that I don't feel bad at all?"

"Yes and nope for the fifth time."

We continued just laying and doing nothing, I smoked three cancer sticks in total and when it was already 5 am, I decided to have a shower, make myself proper-looking again and leave. You see, morning practice again, damn it. But nothing like that happened - yes, I took my time in the bathroom but when I returned to the room, Noel 'attacked' me for another round and I couldn't say no.

But all good things end and I came to realize this the hard way. At 6 and half am, when I was actually having great time screwing my ex like a wild animal, my phone started ringing. I didn't want to pick up, but it still continued anyways, ringing and ringing for minutes and I had to see what the goddamn bastard wanted. Unfortunately for me, the caller was 'YOU'RE SCREWED'. So I picked up.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, BITCH?" Damn, Sweetheart's voice gave me headache even over the phone.

"Doesn't matter?"

"IT FUCKING DOES! DRAG YOUR SKINNY ASS TO THE TRAINING GROUNDS OR I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!"

"I can't right now."

"YOU CAN'T? YOU FUCKING CAN'T? ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME, BITCH?!"

"Actually, no. I'm currently naked and getting laid. If you want to know, I'm on top too. I hope that's useful for you, Boss."

"NO. FUCK. DAMN IT. FUCK!" And he just hung up.

Noel just stared and stared at me and then he started laughing like mad. I gave him a mean, death-promising look, but it seemed like that was even funnier for him, so he just continued laughing and shaking like this was the funniest joke ever. And it's not funny, for fuck's sake, it's not! I lighted another cigarette, waiting for him to finally calm down, meaning 5 minutes.

"Just my boss being annoying." Just because I didn't have anything better or smarter to say. Unfortunately, Noel started laughing again.

"I heard him pretty clearly. Was he on speaker or something?" And my face said it all. "No? Damn, this is so unreal! I'm telling you, this dude needs to visit a therapist or something. Too much anger…" More laughing.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Is this the guy my boss talked with earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't he look a bit like me?"

Well, when I think about it - yeah. Same height, skin color and this long, light hair and eyes with interesting color combination. So yeah, there was a _sligh_t resemblance I just noticed, but that didn't matter.

"And you're not screwing him?"

"Why the fuck does everybody think I'm fucking my boss?! C'mon, dude's hair is longer than mine!" More and more laughing. Damn, this is getting annoying.

We talked about nothing in general and it was already 7 am, meaning time for me to go and sleep in my own bed, because it was never normal for me to spend a whole day with somebody I wasn't dating. So I just dressed up, removed all of my ruined make-up and tied my hair in a messy bun, because it was kinda ruined too. In general - I looked like shit, but who gives a damn? Not me.

After I received the unexpected kiss and the promise for a text or call soon, I left. Let's just say my first job was to call Lussuria. Dude had to know all of the details. Totally.

* * *

**P.S. I pitied Valentina so much that she finally got laid. Lucky her. **


	17. XV: Road trip to hell

__**A/N: Here's the a little late fifteenth chapter. I planned to post it two days ago, but I was far too lazy to beta it and I finally did that today. Anyways, reviews are always appreciated here! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! OR THE VARIA.**

* * *

_XV: Road trip to hell_

Everything sounded nice at first. Really. I'm absolutely serious. But it wasn't and I understood that the hard way, when there was no going back.

It started as nice, innocent and easy mission that was going to give me tons of money. Just go and kill some previously important right hand of a mafia boss that turned as a traitor and the bastard was hiding in a small village. Our job was to kill him in the nicest, slowest way possible and that's why I was needed. Well, I want to think that, but the true reason turned out to be that I was a chick and chicks are always useful on missions like that. Damn that bastard of a boss.

It was 23th of January when we were going and after a long and exhausting morning practice (even if I didn't do anything useful at all and Capt'n still didn't want to look me in the eyes after… you know which phone call), I peacefully went to my room to take my shit. The mission was supposed to be five days long so all of my stuff were shoved in two large leather handbags. After shoving with much force my pipe and the weed that always went with it, I zipped the bag with even more force and the luggage was finally ready.

My choice of outfit sucked again, but I didn't give a fuck, because comfort is everything that mattered when on a mission. I choose to wear black footless tights, the oh-so-favorite over-the-knee boots and another one of my Joker quote shirts. The final touch to the unstylish look was the Material Girl leather jacket that I loved so much.

I tied my hair in a high ponytail, not bothering with make-up and mentally cursed myself for forgetting to paint my nails. Ready for the journey (mainly to dump the job to the others and get high), I grabbed my handbags and left with a perfectly good mood.

But my mood didn't stay good for long, because everything good has an end in the Varia. Well, it was ruined for good when I found out I was traveling with five more people in a 'unsuspicious' flower van all the way from the outskirts of Rome to a village in Calabria. Fuck my life.

* * *

_Hour one_

The nice flower van had three rows of seats in total and I was sprawled on the backseats, my feet crossed an on Filippo from my squad's lap, smoking a cigarette and being bored to death in general. And we left half an hour ago. Damn. Dude looked comfortable enough, even if there was barely any space for him, but who cares?

The other people were Gorilla, Green-haired dude, a healer from the Lighting Squad named Luciano and my dear Capt'n as the driver. Let's just say the company wasn't very pleasant or interesting, if we exclude Filippo who was somewhat cool. I still couldn't understand why was an illusionist needed, but the dude said he was here for the party with the most perfect poker face I ever saw. That left me wondering with our roles in this whole shitty business and I unfortunately started thinking aloud.

"So, we have a Healer (Luciano), we have Assassin (Green dude) and a… Well… Spiritmaster (Capt'n). Who's the Tank? And who am I? Maybe the Gladiator?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Capt'n opened his mouth for the very first time and I noticed he was giving me weird looks. Seriously, dude, seriously?

"Red-haired chick-senpai, I'm not an assassin, I'm a magician. Dumb long-haired commander is the assassin. " Green dude still had the same emotionless expression and he sounded like he explained something very simple about life to a five years old kid. That kinda pissed me off, giving me muse to argue.

"Well, dude, look… You're an illusionist, you can sneak, that means backstabbing and hiding, meaning _you're_ the _Assassin_. And Boss has this… fish that's practically a water spirit, meaning _Spiritmaster_."

"IT'S NOT A FISH, IT'S A SHARK!"

"I'm a magician."

"You're an assassin."

"No, I'm a magician."

"You're the assassin."

"SHUT UP!"

"Magician."

"Assassin."

"Magician."

"Assassin."

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP THIS SHIT BEFORE I DRIVE THE FUCKING VAN IN A DITCH!"

"Okay."

Five minutes of heavy, heavy silence. I threw the cigarette butt from the window and lighted another one. Everybody, except Green dude, looked pretty much confused about our conversation and that was like a sign to continue.

"So who's the tank?" I asked, looking at the illusionist. He gave me this annoying look again.

"Isn't it obvious, red-haired chick-senpai? Levi-senpai, of course. Just look at him - he's our tank."

"You're right. And I'm the Gladiator." After a couple of moments of heavy thinking, I realized me and Minty didn't decide Filippo's role in this. So I just looked at him, thinking how to ask in a way he was going to understand.

"Dude, what weapon do you use?"

"Um… Gun?"

"I see." I looked at Greeny again. "He's the Ranger."

"You mean Archer."

"It's practically the same."

"It's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! Anyways, for what the fuck were you shitheads talking about?"

"C'mon, Boss, really? You never played MMORPG game before? Damn, how are you even alive…"

"Right at your face, dumb long-haired commander."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

* * *

_Hour three_

"Romano… Can you please move your legs from me? It's getting uncomfortable for me, you see…" Filippo said, look full with desperation on his face. I couldn't resist this, so I finally changed my posture. He sighed and made himself comfortable for the very first time.

I lighted my very last cigarette, thinking about a new victim to lie on. I also realized I was hungry, there was nothing to eat and we were on the highway now, meaning no supermarkets or shit like that.

"Boss, when will you shift with someone?" Said bastard looked at me for a millisecond, trying not to lose his concentration. Poor dude, that's impossible with that kind of a company, meaning me.

"Why, bitch? You volunteer?"

"No, I was going to offer to change with Filippo. That way I can sprawl my legs on you and be comfortable."

"I ain't your fucking sofa, bitch."

"Oh, believe me - you look like a sofa, Capt'n."

"What the fuck?!"

"You can always use Levi-senpai."

"What did you say, Fran?!" Said Gorilla looked completely shocked and betrayed. "Only Boss can do that!"

"Like he ever will."

"Yay. Congratulations, Long-haired commander."

"WHAT?!"

"C'mon, Levi-senpai, be realistic."

"I am!"

"No, you aren't."

"SHUT UP, YOU BASTARDS!"

Gorilla and Gender Unknown continued to scream at each other and the rest of us just watched the interesting scene with amusement, almost eating popcorn. Well, we were going to eat popcorn and drink coke if we had any and we didn't. Damn.

After they finally calmed down and left me without any kind of entertainment, I was bored to death again. I felt the huge urge to smoke but when I checked my pack, it was empty. Nothing to eat either, so that left me even more bored. Ten minutes passed and I felt the huge need to bitch at somebody.

"Boss, can we stop?"

"Why?" One-word answer that was actually a question. How nice.

"I need cigarettes."

"Do I look like I give a fuck about that?"

"No."

"Then shut the fuck up!"

"Why?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING ANNOYING ME, THAT'S WHY, BITCH!"

"What did I do this time, Boss? Don't be so mean."

"YOU DESERVE NOTHING MORE. NOW SHUT UP!"

"Okay."

* * *

_Hour four_

"Well… Why don't we turn on the radio?" Poor Luciano spoke for the very first time. I just could tell that he had unpleasant experience with the Big Bad Bastards in the past, but he showed bravery here - he actually told something! We had to celebrate! Not.

"Good idea. Dumb long-haired commander, turn on the radio."

"Don't distract me, motherfucker!"

"Why not?"

"Because I fucking said so!"

"Nobody listens to you."

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?!"

Green dude and Sweetheart continued fighting for ten or fifteen minutes and the subject of the fight wasn't the radio even more. I mean, they were insulting each other for things from one year ago - who killed a cop, who failed a mission, who didn't get the order of The Boss the right way, who spent money for useless things, who slacked off, who was caught being lazy on a mission and so on and so on.

That entertained me, but they unfortunately stopped and that left me wondering about what happened to the damn radio. So I decided to be brave and turn it on myself. I slowly and painfully got up from my comfortable seat and everybody gave me weird looks, but who gives a fuck anyways? Capt'n jumped a bit when he saw me, but it can't be helped. Poor dude. I actually pity him this time. And I turned it on.

_I'm a gummy beaaar; yes I'm a gummy beaaaaaar!_

"Gah!"

"Well done, red-haired chick-senpai, well done."

"CHANGE IT! NOW!"

… _in the Barbie world… Made of plastic, it's fantastic! You can brush my haaaaair… _

"Fuck!"

"CHANGE THAT SHIT NOW!"

_It's Friiday, friiday! Gotta get down on Fridaaaaaaay…_

"TURN IT OOOOOOOOFF!"

With that, Capt'n started screaming and lost control of the wheel, the van started moving faster and faster and I just noticed we were on a bridge and damn, the shitty car was going to fly into the river very soon. So we started screaming too.

After a couple of painful and filled with screaming like insane, the van almost started flying and I fell on my butt, still waving my heads and shouting 'I'M TOO YOUND TO DIE!'. In the very last second, the van stopped moving and the others fell too.

I was laughing like mad thanks to the huge adrenaline rush, Luciano almost started crying, Gorilla was actually crying, Sweetheart's eyes almost popped out of their sockets and he was breathing a little too heavily and loudly, Minty just laid there with the typical poker face and Filippo was cracking up and rolling on the floor like insane.

We calmed down after ten minutes and took our respective seats like absolutely nothing happened. Sweetie shifted with Filippo like I offered and he was currently my new sofa. It's needless to say the radio was turned off.

* * *

_Hour five_

"Look, a gas station!" I exclaimed loudly, pointing to the building that came to my sight. Capt'n gave me a mean look. "What, I'm hungry and out of cigarettes."

"Nobody gives a fuck."

"C'moooon!" I started kicking him and the bastard landed a damn painful punch to my right leg. "What was that for?!"

"Get your damn feet off me!"

"But it's comfortable!"

"Not for me, bitch! NOW MOVE!"

"Only if we stop!"

"We fucking won't! Now stop bitching and GET YOUR FUCKING FEET OFF ME, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! HOW MANY TIMES DO I FUCKING HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS?!"

"Until we stop!"

We continued in the same way for ten or fifteen minutes, all of the other bastards giving us weird looks. Gorilla was thinking about something really, really hard and after five more minutes, he finally spoke.

"Why is the woman still alive, Squalo?" He asked. Sweetheart gave him a look that could kill.

"The fucking same reason you're still alive!"

"What did you say?!"

"You heard me, fucker!"

"I'm alive because of Boss!"

"You're fucking alive because the damn bastard is too lazy to fucking kill you!"

"DON'T INSULT THE BOSS!"

"DON'T FUCKING ORDER ME, TRASH!"

Even this heated argument couldn't entertain me, because I was too hungry and too sleepy to have fun and it was already 6 pm, meaning it was dark outside and the van was pretty warm, nice and comfortable. I don't know how, but I tuned off the bastards without much effort. The best alternative was to sleep, because there was completely nothing to do here and I didn't have an idea when were we going to arrive.

So I grabbed one of my handbags that was on the floor and shoved it under my head as a pillow, trying to find the right posture. After I finally felt good and relaxed enough, even with the screaming of the two retards, I just fell asleep.

* * *

**P.S. I have a question - should I write the sequel to this, meaning the mission with this... interesting crew if I don't have a better idea or not? **


	18. XVI: Quality time - Part 1

**A/N: Well, sorry for the a little late update, but I was kind of forced to visit my grandparents for two days. Not fun at all. Anyways, this is the first part of the chapter, because I'm too lazy to finish the whole thing. Second part can be expected in one or two days, depends on the muse or lack of it. Reviews are welcomed! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA. **

* * *

_XVI: Quality time_

"What the fuck is this shit?" Sweetheart asked with a little too calm tone. Damn, this isn't going to end well.

"Long-haired commander, it looks a bit like a house."

"If we exclude that it's falling down."

"A very small and ruined house, I can say."

"Yeah. If we enter, we will die. Bricks are going to fall on our heads and we will die."

"Totally. Poor us. We're too young to die, if we exclude Levi-sempai and the dumb commander."

"Exactly my thoughts. Dude, I'm starting to like you."

"All the bitches want me."

But Capt'n was a little too angry to pay any attention to mine and Minty's conversation. He was looking at Gorilla with this scary look and the weird eyebrow thing. Left eyebrow up, right eyebrow up, left, right, left, and right, a little twitching with the left one and I didn't think he even knew he was doing it. I started laughing, he was too angry to notice.

"When I told you to find a goddamn house out of the goddamn village, I think I said 'house', you fucker."

"But this was the only house in the outskirts of the village."

"The only house? Are you fucking with me, you goddamn bastard?!"

"It was the only one."

"IF THE BOSS WAS HERE, WAS IT GOING TO BE THE ONLY FUCKING HOUSE?!" And the much expected outburst. Damn, I expected this. Gorilla just stared and stared, sweat all over his face, thinking for a good answer. Let's just say he didn't have time to answer. "I'M ASKING YOU, YOU MORON!"

"…"

"FIND US A GODDAMN MOTEL! FASTER, MOTHERFUCKER, FASTER!" Gorilla started walking. "DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME KICK YOU UNTIL YOU START RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE! IF THE BOSS WAS HERE, WEREN'T YOU GOING TO FUCKING HURRY?!"

Logic at its finest, I can say. But I couldn't help but wonder, how the fuck did Gorilla respond to that king of manipulation after years and years of Sweetie using it? When 'Boss' was mentioned, said hairy moron was ready to do anything even if The Boss had absolutely nothing to do with it. I must admit - cheap but very effective trick. Bravo, Sweetie, bravo. You have my respect for around one minute. Not.

After Gorilla disappeared from sight, we went into the nice flower van to wait. Damn, he was running in the forest, searching for a maybe nonexistent motel and we were in the van. So mean. I love it. Anyways, it was dark outside already and since I just got up and I was still sleepy, I was freezing. If I could, I would smoke, but the tiny detail was that I still didn't have any cigarettes and lighting up a joint was never an opinion. Fuck my life. (How many times did I think this since I joined the Varia? I stopped counting after 50)

Half an hour passed, Gorilla still didn't return. I was bored, cold, hungry and with the desperate need to smoke. The silence was heavy and unpleasant, just because nobody wanted to start a conversation. I checked my phone - 9 pm, no signal to call the searching idiot - and Capt'n was too nervous to feel safe. If another half an hour passed, I was sure he was going to kill us all. Fuck that psycho vibe. After five minutes of very hard thinking, I decided to start talking.

"Maybe his GPS is turned on?"

"No fucking way. The fucker bought his current phone five years ago."

"Damn."

Another twenty minutes passed and Gender Unknown was staring at his sword now. Fuck, when did he attach it on his hand? I could swear to everything that was dear to me that he didn't have it five minutes ago. The truth - he was preparing for the mass murder he was going to commit in the next moments. I instinctively started playing with my storm ring, ready to protect my life when needed because fuck, wasn't I sure that the motherfucker would go all Jack Nicholson soon? Very, very soon. I started sweating.

Fortunately (for us), Gorilla appeared in sigh, still running and sweating like a total idiot. FUCKING FINALLY. Capt'n went out of the car. After a couple of minutes screaming right at Gorilla's face, he made a gesture for us to go out too.

"There's no fucking motel."

Well, damn.

* * *

_First day (night)_

The house wasn't going to actually falling on our heads in the next couple of years, but I could see why my dear boss was pissed off. Varia Mansion was very luxurious, all of the hotels we stayed for missions were luxurious, as I heard The Boss had a summer villa in Venice that was equally luxurious and this small little house looked pretty cheap. Actually, it was pretty cheap. Small kitchen, small living room, only two bedrooms, only two bathrooms and we were six people in total.

After everybody stopped complaining, the time to pick the pairings for the beds and the unlucky bastards that were going to sleep in the living room. Fortunately, I wasn't going to be one of said unlucky bastards - Gorilla and Filippo got the lucky straws. After more straws, it turned out I was in one room with Fran, Capt'n and Luciano in the other. Lucky me.

Well, not so lucky. At freaking two am, Greeny got up from bed still sleeping and started walking around, talking in something that sounded like German. I gave him a weird look. He started banging his head in one of the walls. Another weird look. And when the final shot came - the dude started doing some even weirder moves that looked like ballet or the ritual before the sacrifice in cheap horror movies, this time talking in Spanish. No weird looks were given this time - I simply got up and ran away from the room.

Sweetie wasn't very cooperative when I tried to push him away and steal his blanket and pillow, but he fortunately fell asleep. So I just laid there, half-covered with a blanket and shoving my elbow in my bastard of a boss' stomach when he started snoring. Not like that stopped him, but whatever. Green dude's mumbo-jumbo in this weird Russian-German mix was heard even here. I decided I didn't like him anymore and fell asleep.

* * *

_Second day_

After this weird dream about me marrying Blondie, I woke up at 6 am without knowing the reason. I mean, I usually sleep till noon if there's no morning practice or a mission, so it was pretty much uncommon for me. Some time passed and I finally understood the reason - the pain. My ribs felt shattered to pieces, my lower lip was pulsing like a second heart and there was a huge blue spot on my right arm. What the fuck happened? Sleepwalking and getting myself into a MMA underground tournament? Highly unlikely.

And when we're talking about sleepwalking… There wasn't any talking in mixed and unknown to the human race language coming from the other bedroom, meaning Minty calmed down or got up. That's good.

I noticed Capt'n and Luciano were still sleeping, so I quietly got up, trying to avoid the screaming and the promises for long and painful death. I succeeded and that was a miracle on its own, because I was never quiet in the morning. I decided to check how bad the wounds are, gained in a very unknown to me way, and the regret started flowing in me in the very same second I checked my reflection in the mirror.

I had this nice natural make-up, meaning a black eye and bloody lower lip. When I lifted the oversized shirt, I discovered that my ribs were black and blue. Fuck, my skin recovered from the poisoning two weeks ago! That's not fair! I decided that looking at my reflection is far too painful and started walking in direction of the door; hoping that Minty is up and that I could get fresh clothes without unneeded trouble. I saw Capt'n landing a really nice and powerful punch on Luciano's jaw, both still sleeping, and the reason for my battle wounds was clear. Fuck that bitch.

Anyways, Green dude was still sleeping and he didn't even move when I entered the room and started looking for clothes in one of the handbags. Good. I decided to wear black skinny jeans, another Joker quote shirt, this time black and the same leather boots. After I found underwear, I grabbed all of the clothes and entered the bathroom. The shower took me fifteen minutes, braiding my hair into one-sided fishtail braid - five and carefully putting make-up on my ruined face - half an hour. When I finished, Fran was still sleeping like dead. Even better.

I found Gorilla and Filippo in the living room and damn, didn't that ruin my already ruined mood? I mean, Filippo is cool, but the other individual… Only the mustache was enough to give me nightmares. Both greeted me silently and continued to just sit in silence on the sofa. Poor dudes, they didn't have anything to talk about and they didn't seem pleased about it. Relax, my children, relax, Valentina Romano has arrived, ready to talk nonsense all day!

When I made myself coffee and joined them, picking a not-so-comfortable armchair to sit on, they both gave me shocked looks.

"What happened to your face?" My comrade asked, carefully examining me.

"Capt'n sleeping." They were even more shocked now. "You see, Green dude started some weird dark magic ritual when sleeping, so I decided it's too dangerous to stay in the room and went to the other bedroom. Capt'n wasn't something you could call calm and he fought with both me and the other dude in his sleep. He won. And I'm wearing shitload of make-up, just for the info."

They didn't know what to say.

"And this is nothing compared to my ribs and arm."

Still nothing to say. Well, this time I couldn't start a conversation and it was a little bit unexpected. We just sat there in silence for half an hour, doing completely nothing productive like research or plans for the mission. But a miracle happened - Filippo turned out to be a smoker, just like me. After five minutes of intensive staring at his cigarette, he pointed at the half-empty pack.

"My treat."

"Dude, you're a fucking lifesaver! I love you!"

"Sorry, you're not my type."

"You're breaking my heart!" And that was said with a poker face. Damn, here comes the Fran effect.

We continued not-talking.

* * *

Nothing productive was done that day. When the others woke up, we dumped all the job with the research of the target to Gorilla, not feeling bad at all. Instead of actually working for the money, we decided to have a movie night, but the fight for the movie continued a hour and in the end we didn't watch anything.


	19. XVI: Quality time - Part 2

**A/N: Sorry for the late update (I know I said one or two days), but I kinda forgot to finish the chapter. Anyways, I'll end this story soon, because I'm running out of ideas and writing without any good idea always turns into epic failure, at least for me. Just like always, reviews are much appreciated! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_Third day_

"Aren't we _a little_ suspicious?" I asked, eyes on the short, fat guy that was our target. You see, only one of the weakest guys from the infirmary was enough strong to kill him, but we were six people in total, two of them - commanders of squads. What the fuck?!

"We're not. Shut the fuck up."

"But we're wearing idiotic white uniforms and caps with flowers and our goddamn van is white and pink. Don't worry, Boss, we're not suspicious at all. I mean, aren't all of the cops from the movies with flower vans?"

"Just shut up and leave me fucking concentrate!" Oh no, I angered Sweetheart with my blabber. Poor him. But the bastard had to admit it - this was the worst cover that ever existed, the biggest movie cliché, the most suspicious image for assassins (who currently wore white clothes with flowers).

Gender Unknown's image was a little too much for me to handle - white cap with the logo of the flower company, hair in low ponytail and the nice, girly uniform - so I started laughing. He gave me a mean look and continued with the hardcore thinking, probably some hard and impossible to do strategy. If you ask me, one of us and Green dude could just wait in front of his motel during the night and when the ugly bastard shows up - just kill him fast and nice. But no, we had to deal with strategy plans good enough for killing the freaking Vongola Boss. It's kinda unfortunate that nobody asked me.

Filippo was the third and last person in the van and he looked uncomfortable and awkward, looking anywhere but the road. I knew how he felt - clothes like this did wonders to your confidence. Capt'n was the only one who didn't show how much he disliked the whole situation. That damn bastard, everything was his fault. He could do the mission alone and suffer by himself, but no, he had to take all of us and ruin the week. I hated him too much at that moment.

I couldn't stop asking myself one thing - what the fuck is wrong with the mission? I never knew that six people had to kill a weak and scared traitor who had the best hiding spot (a goddamn motel, for fuck's sake! Is he that dumb?). But after we un-suspiciously followed the bastard to the motel, I understood everything.

As it appeared after one hour of stalking, three other rooms were occupied with not-so-innocent looking men in suits and lame sunglasses who had guns. But still - let's just say that I didn't have much of a role in this whole business. I mean that illusionist, sniper, healer and two scary bastards were normal for this kind of mission, but what was I doing here? This didn't seem good.

"Bastard." Sweetheart's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Fortunately, he was talking to Filippo. "Grab a fucking bouquet, shove a gun inside of it and kill two of the fuckers. After that, send me a damn signal."

My comrade did what he was told. As I watched him leave, I didn't stop wondering about the signal. I found out its meaning after ten or fifteen minutes in silence. No gunshots were heard (normal) and after Filippo appeared behind the only window in the room and waved his hand, Capt'n attached his sword, grabbed two plastic bags and left the flower van. No. Fuck no. That's disgusting.

Let's just say that I received a very sick and unpleasant feeling in my guts when he and Filippo returned, Sweetie carrying two plastic bags with two freshly cut wrists. Fuck. He noticed the weird expression on my face.

"What, bitch? We need to fucking identify the bastards." I didn't say a word.

* * *

Returning to our nice and small house took an hour. When we were still traveling, I honestly didn't know what to say. I mean, for the very first time, Capt'n didn't make me do a thing. No shouting, no insulting, no kicking and no work for me and that was more than unusual. He didn't even look at me. What the hell? The fucker always takes his chance to make my life miserable, but not today.

When we returned, I finally took off the funny-looking uniform and took a shower. Getting ready for the night took me half an hour - I brushed my teeth, painted my nails in this lovely dark red color, tied up my hair in a messy bun without putting any make-up, because it simply wasn't needed. The final step was to dress up and I choose stolen oversized shirt (red), black footless thighs and my beloved Ugg boots. I grabbed all of my shit and went to the kitchen to eat a fridge or two.

After I was finally there (two minutes of walking aren't easy to do), my sweetheart of a boss made me a gesture to go to outside. I obediently followed the silent order with a mean expression.

It was freezing outside, thanks to the cold wind and rain, but Sweetie didn't appear to give a fuck. What's wrong with him? He wasn't more dressed than me and he didn't even flinch when the wind became even colder and colder. I started shaking and walking around, trying to warm myself a bit. Really, dude? Is that the best spot for conversation?

"Stop jumping around like a fucking idiot and listen, bitch." I didn't stop. "Whatever. Tomorrow we get the motherfucker and we bring him here for questioning. The fucking brat will make sure that nothing will be heard or saw if some bastards happen to have a walk around. Filippo will make a video and I'll fucking do the questioning."

"I see." Why was he telling me this? I honestly didn't get it at all.

"After I ask the routine questions about who is fucking paying him, for which family is he working and since when, I'll make sure that the fucker says absolutely everything he knows about the other moles in the Alliance. After that I'll make sure to ask the bastards if he recognizes you."

What. The. Fuck?! I started shaking even more, my poker face being a complete failure. Sweetie's look made me terrified for the very first time since I know him, but that didn't stop me from saying complete nonsense in the most inappropriate time again.

"Maybe he will. You know, I may have fucked and dumped his son or cousin. You can't be sure, Boss."

I knew that this was a huge and nasty mistake even before I opened my mouth, but I couldn't stop myself. My bastard of a boss' expression changed, becoming even more terrifying. In the next moment, he grabbed my neck and slammed my head in one of the walls with too much force. I found breathing to be a very hard thing to do, black spots were all over my eyesight and I was pretty sure that the warm liquid that was dripping on my neck was blood.

"When I'm talking, you shut your fucking mouth, bitch."

When my sight wasn't so blurry, I noticed that the bastard's eyes weren't blue as I used to think - they turned out to be grey. What the fuck was I thinking? Maybe I was going to die in a few minutes and thinking about the eye color of the person that was going to kill me wasn't the best thing to do.

"And isn't it a bit suspicious that the mole appears after the Recruitments? And that you accidentally happen to be one of the newbies and that you're called with a fucking different name in front of me two times? If he doesn't know anything about you or anyone that matches your description, we will have a nice little chat and you'll live for now. But if he recognizes you, we will have a nice little chat and I'll make sure to tear out your heart when it's still beating, only to send it to your boss with a damn greeting card."

My eyes began to water because of the lack of oxygen in my lungs and I felt like I was going to die because of that. Fortunately, I found out I had something like pride, so I didn't start crying. One point for me.

"However, if you admit you're the damn mole, I will just question you and cut your head to send it as a greeting hard. Nice, fast and painless. So, are you a fucking spy?" I managed to shake my head, because talking was impossible. I started choking, my lungs making a weird whistling sound. If the damn bastard didn't stop, I was going to be dead in a minute or two.

Sweetheart waited until I started kicking in the air to release his grip. I simply fell on the floor, my legs shaky and unstable. I have completely forgotten how nice breathing feels.

"If you fucking say so."

When he entered the house, I realized that I wasn't hungry anymore, so I just lighted a cigarette, not bothering with moving to a different spot. I felt so weak and pathetic and that explains the fact that I started crying like a total idiot.

* * *

_Fourth day_

Staying in the house was kind of unbearable, thanks to the screaming and crying. The ugly bastard turned out to be tough and his mouth stayed closed for an hour and half. During the first twenty minutes he was silent, but after that…

And that's why I stayed out of the house with Minty, who wasn't company material at the moment. He was too focused on the illusion, so I went to the woods to smoke a joint and calm down a little. I had a sleepless night because I was too nervous and stressed. Damn that bastard of a boss, thanks to the nice conversation from the previous night, I felt like I was going to have a heart attack any moment.

I smoked three instead of one joints, but the nice and relaxed effect didn't appear, even after the third. My head was still too clear and I could stand perfectly well on my feet. The only thing was that I started feeling a little sick, but maybe that wasn't the weed's fault. Another hour passed and the screaming finally stopped, so I decided to return to the house and see if I was going to die today or not. Who knows what the poor, now dead, bastard said?

As I entered, I saw that Capt'n was covered with blood - his clothes, his gloves, even his hair and a few drops on his face. Filippo looked shocked and terrified, his hand, still holding a camera, shaking. I didn't want to imagine what happened to the currently dead bastard, but I was pretty sure it was too painful. Cleaning the basement seemed almost impossible.

Sweetheart took off his gloves and I noticed that his prosthetic arm was metal. How was he carrying without effort? Damn. The bastard washed his good hand and face and tied up the messy and bloody hair. After that, he gave me a mean look and pointed the ceiling, which was a gesture to get on the upper floor. I obeyed without question, becoming even more and more sick. It was hard not to throw up like the pathetic moron I was, but I succeeded.

Sweetie entered one of the bedrooms and I followed, not saying a word again. When we were in, the bastard sat on the bed and crossed his arms, giving me another mean look. I couldn't decide if he was going to fulfill his promise. I started shaking, becoming even more nervous than before, so I lighted a cigarette to calm down a bit.

"So, am I going to die today?" I asked, voice shaky and quiet. The last time I felt like that was years ago, when I received the carving on my stomach.

"For now. The fucker mentioned a couple of spies and none of them matched your description. Stop fucking shaking, bitch, you're annoying me."

I expected this to be the entire conversation, but it wasn't, because the bastard kept staring at me, like he was expecting me to say something. But I didn't, so he continued talking.

"Whatever, start talking."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"For fucking example, why the hell are you using a fake name? Faster, bitch, faster, I don't have a day just to wait you to start fucking talking."

I took a deep breath and started talking and talking, basically telling my life story. I talked and talked about my parents, my addiction to drugs and gambling, how I became a drug dealer, how I decided to change my name and move to Italy. I even lifted my shirt to show the 'K' carving.

When I finished my messy and weird story, I had smoked two cigarettes in total and I wasn't that nervous anymore.

"You see, Boss, I may be a drug addict, kind of an alcoholic and a lying bitch, but I'm not dumb - I know my damn interests pretty good and being a traitor isn't one of them, because I know too damn well what happens when you start spilling information, because I've done that. And I know what's going to happen to me if I start again. So it's not me. And I don't care what the hell is going on in the Alliance and if there's a war coming - it's not me. I swear it's not me."

Capt'n was silent, not looking at me but at the ceiling, thinking about something. Minute passed and it seemed like ages to me, so I lighted another cigarette. Another minute and he finally looked at me.

"Get out, I want to take a fucking bath."

When I left the room, I almost started crying again.

* * *

_Fifth day_

Nothing much was done that day. Gorilla had the unpleasant job to clean the bloody and messy basement and me and Filippo got rid of the body. Said body missed all of its twenty fingers, the ribs and arms appeared to be broken and there wasn't much skin left. I understood why the poor, dead bastard screamed that much - my bastard of a boss did excellent job torturing him.

When we finished the makeshift grave deep in the woods, we decided to take a small break before returning.

"What happened to you, Romano? You aren't acting like an idiot recently." My comrade asked, looking at me. I didn't felt insulted for the second sentence and that wasn't unusual.

"What can I say, dude? It's been a rough week but I'm more than ready to annoy the hell out of you now."

"Damn." He started laughing and I did the same. We just laughed like total morons for minute or two.

I felt a little too relieved to be normal. Screw this, it was normal to feel relieved after the past two days. I was still alive, still with this well-paid jobs and I earned shitload of money by just doing nothing for five days. Who's fucking awesome? Me, bitches, me!


	20. XVII: Worst day of the year

**A/N: Well, here's the new chapter! One or two more and I'm making this complete because of two reasons: 1)I'll have a finished fanfic, my very first finished fanfic, even if I'm writing in my mother language for years! and 2) When reading the entire story to remind myself what's going on, I feel like the first chapters were far much better than the latest ones. I don't know if it's just me or everybody that reads, but the feeling isn't nice. Well, that's what I wanted to say (write). Reviews are much appreciated, like always! I DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! OR THE VARIA.**

* * *

_XVII: Worst day of the year_

Let's just say that I woke up with a great mood. I mean, I just received a nice check for a mission, no reports to write, I bought a new dress yesterday, Lussuria bought me a pair of McQueen shoes for my birthday and I had a new nail polish. But that was old news - the best thing was that I had more than 11 hours of undisturbed sleep. Another great thing was that there wasn't morning practice today - only the one at 2pm that was once a week. In total - it was going to be an awesome day.

The day happened to be 13th of March and that ringed a bell in the darkest corner of my mind, but the date was unfamiliar for me. After some thinking, I remembered that I was drunk and high as hell at this day, one or two years ago. The memory made me sick, so I kicked it out of my mind.

After my usual morning routine - at least five cigarettes and a long bath - I made another not-so-tasteful outfit, meaning the beloved Ugg boots, uniform pants and a black shirt, no accessories to spice it up a little. I tied up my hair in a high ponytail and straightened my bangs carefully. Make-up was just a bother at the moment, so this step was skipped. I grabbed the usual shit, shoving them in my pockets, and began the journey called 'Let's eat the whole mansion'.

* * *

"What the fuck?" My comrades didn't pay any kind of attention to me and that got me pretty annoyed. The bastards. "What the hell is going on?"

Dante looked at me, sadness in his eyes. After a second of looking, he continued just standing in one place and looking depressed. Seriously, what the hell? All of them were in something like a circle, all of them sad and quiet. At first, I thought that our beloved fridge was dead, but it was in one piece, standing at its usual place. As far as I knew, no one important died soon, so what the fuck was this all about? A secret dark magic ritual? Yes, that has to be it. Only the robes, candles and human skulls were missing.

After ten minutes of silence, Sex on Legs (Francesco) decided to finally speak.

"Our brothers… If you can hear us - we're so sorry about what happened to you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't your fault. We should have protected you… It was so unfair. All of you were so young…"

What was he talking about? Our brothers? As family relative or as a comrade? I couldn't understand the meaning of this sappy, supposed-to-be-heart-wrenching idiotic scene, feeling too out of place. Yes, that had to be a damn ritual. Maybe the bastards did a sacrifice, probably killing the so-called 'brothers'. And I thought that this damn organization can't get any weirder.

The fuckers continued with the sobbing and soap opera speeches, annoying the crap out of me on the way. That lasted a damn half an hour and the only thing that stopped me from getting the remaining pizza and leaving was the interest. Why did they sacrifice them? Fortune? Success? Women? Sweetheart's long and painful death? Damn, that was so weird.

After another ten minutes of sobbing, they finally stopped. I decided that I wasn't hungry anymore, so I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on the table. Fortunately, Dante decided to keep me some company - he joined me on my comfortable seat.

"Did you… sacrifice your brothers? Did the spell work?" I asked, almost whispering, like this was something forbidden. Damn, it was something forbidden (witchcraft isn't normal in 21st century), so I did the right thing for the first time.

Dante made a desperate expression.

"No, dude, seriously, you can tell me. It'll be our secret. What was the spell for? Let me guess - making our dear boss stop breathing?" Dante facepalmed. "I'm right, ain't I? I mean, that bastard is almost immortal. We can't kill him even if we really want to and we really want to. But he gives us money, so it's not fair."

"Seriously, Val?"

"Yes, I'm right. You can't deny, I know this dirty little secret now. Relax, I won't tell anybody."

"…Are you fucking with me?"

"No. Yes, dude, I can keep secrets if it's important and damn, isn't this important?"

My friend started banging his head on the table, looking more desperate than I ever saw him. Yes, this is guilt. He is so guilty that he can't stand himself, so he is trying to kill himself now. Oh no, I have to stop him!

"Don't! Yes, it was a mistake to sacrifice your own comrades for the death of the person who gives you money! But leave it in the past, you shouldn't die!"

"For fuck's sake, Val, stop the damn nonsense! Do you really think that we practice witchcraft?"

"It seems so."

Dante looked even more desperate now, but at least he stopped the tries to smash his own head on the kitchen table. That wasn't a pretty way to die. It's alright somebody to smash your head, but on the table that you eat almost every day? That's sick even for me. Making a bloody mess in the kitchen isn't moral even for me and I don't have much moral left.

"Are you high, woman?"

"Well, I was, but that was yesterday. I can't be high now."

The dude wrapped his hand around my shoulders and gave me a knowing look, like he was going to tell me the truth about God, the creating of the first man, the Original sin, aliens, the Apocalypse and the existence of unicorns and Santa.

"Look, Val… On the same day, a year ago, there was the Big Newbies Massacre. No newbie survived. I think I told you about that when you joined the squad."

Oh.

"I see. So you're not practicing dark magic?"

"Nope."

"No sacrifices?"

"Nope."

"No satanic cults?"

"Nope."

"I see."

We sat in silence, me drinking coffee and Dante drinking water. I was trying to remember what exactly he told me. Yes, he mentioned the massacre, but what was it? A mission? No. Accident? No. Airplane crash? Highly unlikely. When I finished my coffee, I decided to return to my room and watch some cheap horror movie with a pretty actor. I tactically stole one of the knifes without any good reason and got up from the table.

At the very same second I got a grip on the handle of the door, Dante started talking.

"Keep it low today, Val. No bullshit, no 'I'm so awesome!' act, no neon shoes." I gave him a weird look.

"And why is that."

"Captain has birthday today. And when I remember what happened when somebody annoyed him on the last one… Believe me, you don't want to piss him off."

_Oh fuck._

* * *

When Sweetheart walked in the training grounds, he looked anything but sweet. Everybody froze on the spot, me included. Damn, at moments like this, I still remembered how he almost killed me month and half ago, only with one hand and without having a birthday. The motherfucker looked the same to me, but I could imagine how he saw himself in the mirror - probably 100 years old and on a dying bed - and fuck, he looked too pissed off for us to survive the day.

"STOP FUCKING STARING AT ME, YOU DAMN BASTARDS! START RUNNING ALREADY, I DON'T HAVE A WHOLE FUCKING DAY TO DEAL WITH YOUR SHIT! FASTER, TRASH, FASTER!"

After half an hour or painful and tiring running, the bastard was still unpleased.

"WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU SO SLOW?! FIVE MORE LAPS!"

We obeyed without a question.

"TOO DAMN SLOW! FIVE MORE UNTIL YOU FINALLY FUCKING LEARN HOW TO RUN!"

We obeyed.

"100 PUSH UPS FOR ANYBODY WITHOUT THE WHOLE UNIFORM!"

I was one of those without proper uniforms. We obeyed. When I was done, I felt and looked like shit - sweating, messy hair, ruined make-up and a broken phone - but that wasn't enough for the motherfucker.

"START FIGHTING, YOU DAMN BASTARDS! NOW!"

We silently obeyed.

"START USING ACTUAL WEAPONS, YOU LITTLE SHITS!"

The person that I hated more than anybody at the moment decided everybody must carry three RPG's on their backs while fighting. The damn things were heavy as fuck, but we obeyed again.

"YOUR SKILLS WITH BLADES ARE PATHETIC! CHANGE THAT NOW, MOTHERFUCKERS! NOW!"

The retard gave us I-don't-know-how-heavy-but-damn-it-tore-my-arm swords and told us to fight. He wasn't pleased with the result, so he made sure that half of the squad will spend at least a month in the infirmary. I was one of the unlucky ones that passed the torture with no idea how.

"200 PUSH-UPS FOR THE REST!"

We did as we were obeyed.

I'm not sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate, but a salvation came. When the massive metal door started opening, I felt too relieved that I almost started crying. The faces of my poor, tired comrades said the exactly same thing. WE ARE SAVED!

But the salvation turned out to be Lussy in all of his colorful glory.

"Oh, Squ, honey, happy birthday~"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE, FAGGOT?!" Damn, the bastard of a boss didn't look pleased. At all. Quite the opposite - he was so angry, like he was going to explode at the same second. Lussy didn't notice (or pretended not to).

"Oh, you silly~ Did you really think that I'll skip your thirty-first birthday for a mission? You are breaking my heart! What kind of mother would skip her child's birthday, Squ?" Lussy started with the fake crying and dramatic gestures. The poor dude almost fell from all of the acting. Capt'n wasn't impressed - no, he was even more angry.

"GET OUT OF MY EYESIGHT, SCUM!"

"Aw, don't be like that~ I even got you a present and you react that way… How can you be so cruel?!"

"WHAT FUCKING PRESENT?!"

"A dress! When I saw it, you were the first thing that came in my mind, honey~ I thought that maybe you'll finally discover your feminine side! Won't that be lovely, my dear~ And the dress is gorgeous! It's going to look perfect on you!"

Sweetheart looked more pissed than I ever saw him. The sound of him gritting his teeth was too loud and ear-bleeding, he was clenching his only good fist a little too hard and I could swear that there was steam coming out of his ears and nose. Fuck, that wasn't good. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. A minutes of silence and a storm came.

"OUT! NOW! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY EYESIGH BEFORE I CHOP YOU TO PIECES, YOU DAMN TRASH!"

"But-"

"NO BUTS! OUT! NOW, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, NOW!"

And he literally kicked out the crying and hurt Lussuria and fuck, the kicks looked too painful to bear. Poor dude. He didn't deserve it - he just wanted to help our dear commander to discover his womanly side. It was too hard to stop myself from laughing, even with the aching muscles, the three RPG's on my back and the too-damn-heavy-to-carry sword in my hand.

It turned out I wasn't the only amused ones - one of the dudes from my squad, the one with the complicated name that maybe started with G or with R, couldn't stop himself. He started laughing like mad, tears coming out of his eyes. And when I saw my motherfucking boss' expression, I just knew that things weren't going to end well for the laughing dude.

In the next moment, Laughing Dude's head fell to the ground. The very few people, me included, that were still alive and standing, just stared. And stared and stared and stared.

"WHAT, YOU FUCKERS! 300 PUSH-UPS AND TEN LAPS OF THE ENTIRE YARD FOR BEING ANNOYING IDIOTS! AND I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK THAT IT'S RAINING! START! NOW!"

The idea for dark magic and sacrifices didn't seem so bad at the moment. When I was doing the one hundred and something push-up, there was only one thought in my head. _Why doesn't the annoying bitch just die to put us out of our misery?_


	21. XVIII: To feel like survivor

__**A/N: Well, this is the final chapter. I feel kind of sad for ending this, because I actually started to like my character in the writing process, but whatever. I finally have a finished story to brag about for years. I'm so awesome. Anyways, thanks for putting up with my crap for I-don't-know-how-long! Reviews will be appreciated as always! I STILL DON'T OWN KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! AND THE VARIA.**

* * *

_XVIII: To feel like survivor_

When I woke up, I felt perfect, great and one hell of a strong motherfucker. The birds were chirping, the grass was green, the trees were green, the sun was hot and shiny and there wasn't any sadness in the world. Screw that, the whole sentence was a lie - it was the 29th of November and the weather was cold, misty, rainy and shitty in general. There were no birds, no hot and shiny sun, no green grass and trees and I was pretty sure that half of the world population was depressed and sad. But screw that too, because I was Da Boss. Da strongest muthafucka in the world. Da scariest bastard. Because I survived. I survived a damn year in this goddamn place. And I was freaking rich! Take that, you bastards, I'm fucking awesome!

But I had to take a uncomfortable, awkward and cold bath in my tub, because as rich and awesome I was, half of my bathroom's content was broken after my last over-drinking and I didn't have a cent to fix it. Only the tub, the toilet and the sink survived my attack. You see, I wasn't lying when I said I was rich - I'm rich one or two days after I receive a check for a mission. After that, I beg for money to buy cigarettes until I have a new mission again. But I'm still awesome and yes, arguments are invalid for this one.

After an hour of pathetic tries to wash my hair with cold water in the damn tub, I finally succeeded. I considered shaving my legs too, but that was out of the question - if I stayed in for another minute, I was going to have a nasty cold on my… how to say this… anniversary.

I had to wear a 'I survived a year in the Varia and all I got is this shitty shirt' shirt, thanks to my promise. If I didn't, my comrades were going to eat me alive with the clothes and shoes, so I didn't have a choice. I found a clear pair of uniform pants and equally clear underwear and it was kind of a miracle. Thanks to experience, I stopped wearing high heels and wedges on daily basis, because it was simply uncomfortable and unpractical, but that didn't mean I stopped buying them. Finding a pair of shoes in this chaos called 'room' was hard too, but I succeeded with that too - after ten minutes of searching, my beloved leather above-the-knee boots were on my feet.

I straightened my hair carefully and that took me twenty minutes, because the damn thing became longer and longer (no time and inspiration to cut it), placing shitload of make-up that covered the nasty scar - another twenty. The scar was one of the two additions for this year.

It happened on a mission. It was only me and Francesco and we had to kill the ex-wife of a mafia boss from the Alliance. The bitch not only divorced the poor bastard after cheating with one of his subordinates, but she took almost all of his money. Too bad she wasn't too prepared for a nice friendly visit from us. Sex on Legs locked himself in the basement accidentally and I was the only one to deal with the bitch's crap. She turned out smarter than she looked and got me unprepared in a dark room. No, she didn't kill me (that's kinda obvious), but she managed to tear my right cheek with a damn kitchen knife. I made her burn when still breathing after I regained my posture.

That was two months ago and the painful cut was already fading, leaving only a thin line. The scar started from my right temple and almost reached the corner of my mouth. I considered finishing it and adding a matching one on my other cheek, just to be a real life Joker, but it didn't happen.

And that was the reason to spray my hair green and add the creepy make-up on Halloween. And I got so in-character that I started telling false stories about how I got the scar to every newbie that I saw. I even welcomed Sweetheart with 'Hello, beautiful!' on morning practice and he punched me right in the face. The bastard. I was just in-character. Anyways, the false stories became something like a habit, just to make my comrades laugh. At least they appreciated my acting.

Anyways, the second new thing in my life was that my father died four months ago. From cancer, as I learned. I learned about that after the funeral, when one of my cousins finally found a way to contact me to tell me the news. I didn't know how to react. To be honest, I didn't even cry, because he never felt like family to me. I felt weird and kind of sad for a couple of days and everything went back to normal.

* * *

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sweetheart asked, nice and friendly _as always_. What was wrong with me? Well, too many things actually, but what the fuck? None of them were new.

"What do you mean, Capt'n?"

"Your fucking shirt. And your fucking face. Are you wearing a mask or something, bitch?"

"No."

"Then what the hell is wrong with it?" I finally understood what he was trying to say. The bastard.

"Y' now, if there is a better way to cover ugly scars on your face - feel free to share with me. New methods are much welcomed, Capt'n."

"Don't fucking talk back. And don't whine - you wanna se an ugly scar - I'll fucking show you my back, chest and left hand."

"But it's not your face, dude! I mean, seriously!"

"Stop. Fucking. Bitching. I don't have a goddamn arm and you're whining about a tiny cut on your fucking face? The hell."

"But it's not the face!"

"SHUT UP ALREADY."

"Okay."

I was bitching? I WAS BITCHING? LOOK AT THE MIRROR, YOU DAMN MOTHERFUCKER, AND SEE WHO IS BITCHING! Anyways, let's think about something nicer and friendlier. The ceiling, for example. It was this lovely white color, only and only white and it had one spot that was slightly darker than the rest. Such a nice ceiling, I want the same one too. Damn, my ceiling is almost the same, just a little yellow, thanks to my smoking habit. My evil plan to think about something nice failed epically.

Sweetie was just the same as always - grumpy, angry, annoying, bitching, PMSing, giving me this peaceful and friendly feeling just to start hitting him in the head with something hard until his head is smashed to pieces on the floor and he is dead. Well, maybe he looked slightly older and finally his age (not fair. The bastard always, always looked slightly younger, maybe in his mid-twenties. Screw him). Whatever. I decided not to bother myself with this poor excuse for a good boss and finally ask him why the fuck did he call me, interrupting the holy action called 'smoking weed'.

"So, a new mission?" He nodded. "How much will you pay me?"

"WHATEVER I DECIDE TO FUCKING GIVE YOU. HERE'S THE FILE." He threw a plastic folder at my direction and I caught it by some kind of miracle. "NOW FUCK OFF BEFORE I CUT YOUR TONGUE AND SHOVE IT IN YOUR THROAT."

"But why? Don't you enjoy my company? Damn it, Boss, you're breaking my heart here! Don't you care?" I found an expensive laptop flying at my direction. "I thought you loved me, Alejandro!" The chair came after that. "You wanted to marry me and now you're kicking me out! How could you?!" A desk. "I thought that after I caught you with that slut, you were going to change, but you're still the same!" A lamp. "I hate that I love you, Alejandro! That's it! We are breaking up, but my love for you will never die!"

"JUST FUCK OFF ALREADY!"

"Don't you care about our children?! How can you be so horrible?!"

In the next moment, he grabbed my hair and slammed my face in the door. When I found myself in the hallway, my nose was bleeding and I was pretty sure it was broken, but that didn't stop me from laughing my ass off.

"Damn, Val, you look like shit. What happened to your nose?"

After the ultimate rejection, I returned to the not-looking-like-it-even-the-slightest kitchen to make myself a cup of nice espresso. At least the coffee machine wasn't broken after the last squad over-drinking. Fuck, this damn squad broke absolutely everything at least five times a week. And I thought that our boss was destructive. Actually, maybe it was just influence - we happened to spent at least half of our awake moments with the motherfucker. Yes, influence.

The sight of Dante welcomed me, after I haven't seen him for entire week. I almost hugged him. Almost. And the bastard's first words were about how shitty I looked. I felt rejected again. Not.

"Thanks for the reminder, dude, I really didn't notice that my nose was broken."

"Don't take it out on me, Val. Let me guess - you were trolling our wonderful boss again."

"No. Nothing like that. I just called him 'Alejandro' and accused him of cheating on me even if we were going to get married and we had two children. Dude, do you call that 'trolling'? What the hell?"

I noticed my friend was eating the last remaining of _my_ pizza. Fuck these bastards called 'comrades'. Why did they always, fucking always, ate my food?! No, it's not like I'm the one who doesn't have a cent again, so it's completely acceptable to eat my food that I bought with my very last cents?

"I'm starting to notice something weird about you, Val. After your cheek got cut, your acting is becoming kind of superb."

"Is that a compliment?"

"No." All of the hope I had left after Capt'n rejected me got crushed to pieces by my somewhat best friend here. I swear the entire world is against me. Fuck. "I mean, it's not normal to call your boss different names every time. And to tell a different story about the scar every time somebody asked. Damn, you're even doing it when nobody is asking."

"Com-rade, there's a new Joker in town." I started biting the inside of my mouth, somewhat playing with both the tiny piece of silver on my tongue and the scar. There was this weir slurping sound and damn, wasn't I so in-character?

"No, Val, that's not weird. Not at all."

That made me think about myself and my attitude for the last months. Dante was right - I was acting less like me with every day that passed and damn, that worried me a little. Maybe this was the Varia effect. Maybe I finally became the so-called 'Varia Quality' and that meant I had to be insane. Or maybe I finally lost it, after twenty-two years of shitty life. Who knows? Well, not me.

"Anyways, where the fuck is the coffee?"

"There's no coffee for three or four days. Didn't you notice?" He gave me a worried glance. I just stared at him, feeling too stupid to say anything.

"You're right."

And everything just continued - my life, my work, the money flowing in my bank account and my acting skills. I still couldn't believe that I was here for a year, still alive and breathing, with no weird diseases and only three new scars. The strange thing was that it felt like I was part of the Varia since I was born - the line between this job and the life before it was quickly fading away. It was almost transparent now. I could predict my comrades' actins, how Sweetheart reacted when I decided to troll him, what small gifts Lussy had for me, how much money I was going to receive after every mission.

Predictable - yes, boring - never. That's how every single day of my life was. I just lighted a cigarette for that occasion and took a deep breath.

* * *

**P.S. How Valentina turned out was pretty much the only thing I knew for the story since the beginning. Let's just say she wasn't insane enough for the Varia at the beginning, but I'm still kinda sad. **


End file.
